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DEFEAT OF THE SKINNERS AT DEAD MAN's LAKE. 



"ase 56. 



€\it Ml of iubf|iFnhiuf, 




BY HENRY C. WATSON 



PHILADELPHIA: 
LINDSAY AND BLAKISTON. 



THE 




o?^R' 



C^(f > /i . 



^ OLD BELL 



^ 



INDEPENDENCE 



PHILADELPHIA IN 1776. 



HENRY &T\ a T S N, 

AUTHOR OF "the CAMP-FIRES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION, 
"the YANKEE TEA-PARTY, OR BOSTON IN 1773," ETC. ETC. 



ffiiitjr SUuBtrntinHB. 




PHILADELPHIA: 

LINDSAY AND BLAKISTON. 

1852. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1851, by 

LINDSAY AND BLAKISTON, 

in the Clerk's OfBce of the District Court of the United States for the 
Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 






PEEFACE 



To awaken in the minds of all Americans 
that veneration of the patriots and heroes 
of the "War of Independence, and that emula- 
tion of their noble example which is sa neces- 
sary to the maintenance of our liberties, are the 
objects of this little work. Every day's de- 
velopments illustrate the importance of these 
objects. In the enjoyment of the freedom and 
prosperity of our country, we are apt to under- 
rate the means by which that enjoyment was 
secured to us, and to forget the men who 
worked for that end. A knowledge of the 

toils and sufferings of the noble-hearted fathers 

(ix) 



X PREFACE. 

of the Eevolution is the best preventative, 
or curative, for this "falling off." "War, 
clothed as it is, with horrors, is to be con- 
demned, and the spirit which leads to it should 
be driven from the breasts of men. But gene- 
rous devotion, strength of resolution, and far- 
reaching skill, are things to be commended and 
imitated wherever displayed. In these pages, 
will be found stories of the chief men of the 
Revolution, so connected, by the manner in 
which they are narrated, as to give a general 
interest to them — " The Old Bell of Indepen- 
dence" being the rallying point of the veteran 
story-tellers. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION Page 13 

STORY OF GENERAL WASHINGTON .... 19 

THE SPY'S FATE 24 

STORY OF THE SERMON 28 

STORY OF THE PRAYER 42 

STORY OF LYDIA DARRAGH 46 

THE DEAD MAN'S LAKE 50 

THE HALF-BREED 57 

DEATH OF COLONEL LOVELACE 64 

MURDER OF MISS McCREA. . . . . . 68 

DEFENCE OF SHELL'S BLOCK-HOUSE .... 73 

BATES'S REVENGE 76 

STORY OF GENERAL WAYNE 82 

fxi) 



XU CONTENTS. 

THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES 88 - 

THE TORY'S CONVERSION 106 " 

THE TIMELY RESCUE 120 

THE BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN 133 

THE BATTLE OF THE KEGS 143 

ARNOLD'S TREASON 152 

CAPTURE OF GENERAL PRESCOTT .... 156 
JONATHAN RILEY AND FRANK LILLY. . . .170 

MASSACRE OF WYOMING 176 . 

STORY OF THE DAUPHIN'S BIRTHDAY . . .186 



THE 



OLD BELL 



OF 



INDEPENDENCE 



INTRODUCTION. 

It was a season of unparalleled enthusiasm and re- 
joicing, when General Lafayette, the friend and sup- 
porter of American Independence, responded to the 
wishes of the people of the United States, and came to 
see their prosperity, and to hear their expressions of 
gratitude. The national heart beat joyfully in anticipa- 
tion ; and one long, loud, and free shout of welcome 
was heard throughout the land. 

Arriving at New York in August, 1824, General 
Lafayette journeyed through the Eastern States, receiv- 
ing such tokens of affection as the people had extended 
to no other man except Washington, and then returned 
southward. On the 28th of September, he entered 
Philadelphia, the birth-place of the Declaration of In- 
dependence, the greater part of the population coming 
2 (13) 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

out to receive and welcome him. A large procession 
was formed, and thirteen trmmphal arches erected in the 
principal streets through which the procession passed. 

After General Lafayette himself, the most remarkable 
objects in the procession were four large open cars, 
resembling tents, each containing forty veterans of the 
struggle for independence. No one could, without 
emotion, behold these winter-locked patriots, whose 
eyes, dimmed by age, poured forth tears of joy at their 
unexpected happiness in once more meeting an old 
commander, and joining in the expressions of gratitude 
to him. 

After passing through the principal streets, General 
Lafayette was conducted into the hall of the State- 
House, where the old Continental Congress had assem- 
bled, and where the immortal Declaration of Inde- 
pendence was signed. Here the nation's guest was 
received formally on behalf of the citizens by the mayor, 
and then the people were admitted to take him by the 
hand. At night there was a splendid illumination ; and 
crowds of people traversed the streets, singing and cele- 
brating the exploits of the champion of liberty and the 
friend of America. 

On one of the days succeeding Lafayette's grand 
entry into the city, he received, in the Hall of Indepen- 
dence, the veteran soldiers of the Revolution who had 
come to the city, and those who were residents. One 
by one these feeble old men came up and took the 
General by the hand, and to each he had some reminis- 
cence to recall, or some congratulation to offer. Heroes 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

of Brandywine, Germantown, Trenton, Princeton, Mon- 
mouth, and other fields, were there ; some with scars to 
show, and all much suffering to relate. The old patriotic 
fire w^as kindled in their breasts, and beamed from their 
furrowed countenances, as memory flew back to the time 
that proved their truth and love of liberty. One had 
been under the command of the fiery Wayne, and shared 
his dangers with a spirit as dauntless; another had 
served with the cool and skilful Greene, and loved to 
recall some exploit in which the Quaker general had 
displayed his genius ; another had followed the lead of 
Lafayette himself, when a mere youth, at Brandywine : 
everything conspired to render this interview of the 
General and the veteran soldiers as touching and as in- 
teresting as any recorded by history, or invented by 
fiction. 

After the reception of the veterans, one of them pro- 
posed to go up into the belfry, and see the old bell 
w^hich proclaimed liberty " to all the land, and to all the 
nations thereof" Lafayette and a few others accom- 
panied the proposal by expressing a wish to see that 
interesting relic. With great difficulty, some of the old 
men were conducted up to the belfry, and there they 
beheld the bell still swinging. Lafayette was much 
gratified at the sight, as it awakened his old enthusiasm 
to think of the period when John Adams and his bold 
brother patriots dared to assert the principles of civil 
liberty, and to proclaim the independence of their coun- 
try. Old John Harmar, one of the veteran soldiers who 
had been in Philadelphia when the Declaration was 



16 INTRODUCTION. 

proclaimed, and who again shook hands 'wdth his old 
brothers in arms, gave vent to his thoughts and feelings 
as he stood looking at the bell. 

" Ah ! that 's the trumpet that told the Britishers a 
tale of vengeance ! My memory 's not so bad but I can 
recollect the day that old bell was rung for independence ! 
This city presented a very different appearance in those 
days. It was a small town. Every body was expectin' 
that the king's troops would be comin' here soon, and 
would sack and burn the place : but the largest number 
of us were patriots, and knew the king was a tyrant ; 
and so we did n't care much whether they came or not. 
How^ the people did crowd around this State-House on 
the day the Declaration was proclaimed ! Bells were 
ringing all over town, and guns were fired ; but above 
'em all could be heard the heavy, deep sound of this old 
bell, that rang as if it meant something ! Ah ! them 
was great times." 

As old Harmar concluded these remarks, the old men 
standing near the bell nodded approvingly, and some 
echoed, " Them was great times !" in a tone which in- 
dicated that memory was endeavoring to conjure back 
the time of which they spoke. They then slowly turned 
to descend. Lafayette had preceded them with his few 
friends. " Stop !" said old Harmar ; " Wilson, Morton, 
Smith, and you, Higgins, my son wants you to come 
home with me, and take dinner at his house. Come ; I 
want to have some chat with you over old doings. I 
may never see you again after you leave Philadelphia." 

The invitation, cordially given, was cordially accepted, 
and the party of old' friends descended the stairs, and, 



INTRODUCTION. 17 

arriving at the door, were assisted by the cheering crowd 
to get into their carriage, which then drove towards the 
residence of old Harmar's son. At that place we shall 
consider them as having arrived, and, after much wel- 
coming, introducing, and other preparatory ceremonies, 
as seated at a long, well-supplied table, set in a large 
and pleasant dining-hall. Young Harmar, his wife, and 
the four children, were also accommodated at the same 
table, and a scene of conviviality and pleasure was pre- 
sented such as is not often witnessed. The old men 
were very communicative and good-humored; and 
young Harmar and his family were free of questions 
concerning the great scenes through which they had 
passed. But we will let the company speak for them- 
selves. 



STORY OF GENERAL WASHINGTON. 



" Grandfather," said Thomas Jefferson Harmar, 
" won't you tell us something about General Wash- 
ington?" 

" I could tell you many a thing about that man, my 
child," replied old Harmar, " but I suppose people know 
everything concerning him by this time. You see, these 
history writers go about hunting up every incident relat- 
ing to the war, now, and after a while they '11 know 
more about it — or say they do — than the men who 
were actors in it." 

" That 's not improbable," said young Harmar. 
" These historians may not know as much of the real 
spirit of the people at that period, but that they should 
be better acquainted with the mass of facts relating to 
battles and to political affairs is perfectly natural." The 
old man demurred, however, and mumbled over, that 
nobody could know the real state of things who was not 
living among them at the time. 

"But the little boy wants to hear a story about 
Washington," said Wilson. " Can 't you tell him 
something about the man? I think I could. Any one 
who wants to appreciate the character of Washington, 

(19) 



20 STORY OF 

and the extent of his services during the Revolution, 
should know the history of the campaign of 1776, when 
every body was desponding, and thinking of giving up 
the good cause. I tell you, if Washington had not been 
superior to all other men, that cause must have sunk 
into darkness." 

" You say well," said Smith. " We, who were at 
Valley Forge, know something of his character." 

'^ I remember an incident," said Wilson, " that will 
give you some idea, Mrs. Harmar, of the heart George 
Washington had in his bosom. I suppose Mr. Harmar 
has told you something of the sufferings of our men 
during the winter we lay at Valley Forge. It was a 
terrible season. It 's hard to give a faint idea of it in 
words; but you may imagine a party of men, with 
ragged clothes and no shoes, huddled around a fire in a 
log hut — the snow about two feet deep on the ground, 
and the wind driving fierce and bitter through the chinks 
of the rude hovel. Many of the men had their feet 
frost-bitten, and there were no remedies to be had, like 
there is now-a-days. The sentinels suffered terribly, and 
looked more like ghosts than men, as they paced up and 
down before the lines of huts." 

" I wonder the men did n't all desert," remarked 
Mrs. Harmar. "They must have been uncommon 
men." 

" They were uncommon men, or, at least, they suf- 
fered in an uncommon cause," replied Wilson. "But 
about General Washington. He saw how the men were 
situated, and, I really believe, his heart bled for them. 



GENERAL WASHINGTON. 21 

He would write to Congress of the state of affairs, and 
entreat that body to procure suppHes; but, you see. 
Congress had n't the power to comply. All it could do 
was to call on the States, and await the action of their 
Assemblies. 

" Washington's head-quarters was near the camp, and 
he often came over to see the poor fellows, and to try to 
soothe and comfort them ; and, I tell you, the men loved 
that man as if he had been their father, and would rather 
have died with him than have lived in luxury with the 
red-coat general. 

" I recollect a scene I beheld in the next hut to the 
one in which I messed. An old friend, named Josiah 
Jones, was dying. He was lying on a scant straw bed, 
with nothing but rags to cover him. He had been sick 
for several days, but would n't go under the doctor's 
hands, as he always said it was like going into battle, 
certain of being killed. One day, when we had no no- 
tion of anything of the kind, Josiah called out to us, as 
we sat talking near his bed, that he was dying, and 
wanted us to pray for him. We were all anxious to do 
anything for the man, for we loved him as a brother ; 
but as for praying, we did n't exactly know how to go 
about it. To get clear of the service, I ran to obtain the 
poor fellow a drink of water to moisten his parched 
lips. 

" While the rest were standing about, not knowing 
what to do, some one heard the voice of General Wash- 
ington in the next hut, where he was comforting some 
poor wretches who had their feet almost frozen off. Di- 
rectly, he came to our door, and one of the men went 



22 STORYOF 

and told him the state of things. Now, you see, a 
commander-in-chief might have been justified in being 
angry that the regulations for the sick had been diso- 
beyed, and have turned away ; but he was a nobler sort 
of man than could do that. He entered the hut, and 
went up to poor Josiah, and asked him how he was. 
Josiah told him that he felt as if he was dying, and 
wanted some one to pray for him. Washington saw that 
a doctor could do the man no good, and he knelt on the 
ground by him and prayed. We all knelt down too ; 
we could n't help it. An old comrade was dying, away 
from his home and friends, and there was our general 
kneeling by him, with his face turned towards heaven, 
looking, I thought, like an angel's. Well, he prayed 
for Heaven to have mercy on the dying man's soul ; to 
pardon his sins ; and to take him to Himself: and then 
he prayed for us all. Before the prayer was concluded, 
Josiah's spirit had fled, and his body was cold and stiff. 
Washington felt the brow of the poor fellow, and, seeing 
that his life was out, gave the men directions how to 
dispose of the corpse, and then left us to visit the other 
parts of the camp." 

" That was, indeed, noble conduct," said young Har- 
mar. "Did he ever speak to you afterwards about 
violating the regulations of the army ?" 

" No," replied Wilson. " He knew that strict disci- 
pUne could not be, and should not have been maintained 
in that camp. He was satisfied if we were true to the 
cause amid all our sufferings." 

" Praying at the death-bed of a private," mused Smith 
aloud. " Well, I might have conjectured what he would 




WASiriNGTON's PRAYER FOR THE DYING SOLDIER. 



GENERAL WASHINGTON. 23 

do in such a case, from what I saw^ of him. I wonder 
if history ever spoke of a greater and better man ?" 

Young Mr. Harmar here felt incHned to launch out 
into an elaborate panegyric on the character of Wash- 
ington, but reflected that it might be out of place, and 
therefore contented himself with remarking, " We shall 
ne'er look upon his like again." 

" He was a dear, good man," remarked Mrs. Harmar. 

" Yes," said old Harmar, " General Washington was 
the main pillar of the Revolution. As a general, he was 
vigilant and skilful ; but if he had not been anything 
more, we might have been defeated and crushed by the 
enemy. He had the love and confidence of the men, 
on account of his character as a man, and that enabled 
him to remain firm and full of hope when his countrymen 
saw nothing but a gloomy prospect." 



THE 

SPY'S FATE. 



" Now I '11 tell you a story that I have just called to 
mind," said old Harmar. "It's of a very different 
character, though, from the story of Washington. It 's 
about a spy's fate." 

" Where was the scene of it ?" inquired Mrs. Harmar. 

" Out here on the Schuylkill's banks, just after the 
British took possession of this city," replied old Harmar. 
" There was a man named James Sykes, who had a 
lime-kiln on the east bank of the river, and was manu- 
facturing lime pretty extensively when the enemy came 
to this city. While Congress was sitting here, Sykes 
always professed to be a warm friend to the colonial 
cause ; but there was always something suspicious about 
his movements, and his friends and neighbours did not 
put much faith in his professions. He would occasion- 
ally be out very late at night, and sometimes be gone 
from home for a week, and give very vague accounts of 
the business which had occupied him during his absence. 
Some of his neighbours suspected that he was acting as 
one of Sir WiUiam Howe's spies, but they could never 

get any positive proof of their suspicions. 

(24) 



thespy'sfate. 25 

" At length the enemy took possession of this city, 
and then Sykes began to show that he was not such a 
very w^arm friend of the right side. He went to the 
head-quarters of the British general frequently, and 
seemed to be on the best terms with the enemy. Well, 
it happened that one of his old neighbors, named Jones, 
was tlie captain of one of the companies of our line ; 
and he, somehow or other, obtained proof that Sykes 
was acting as a spy for the enemy. He informed Gen- 
eral Wayne of the fact, and immediately proposed that 
he should be allowed to attempt his capture. Wayne 
consented, and Captain Jones set about preparing for 
the enterprise. Sykes was usually out at his lime-kiln, 
with some of his men, during the morning, and, as the 
guilty are ever suspicious, he increased the number of 
his assistants, to ensure himself against attack. Captain 
Jones took only tw^enty men from his company, and left 
our camp just before dark. The business was full of 
danger. The place where Jones expected to capture 
the spy was within a mile of a British out-post ; and the 
greatest secrecy and rapidity of movement was necessary 
to prevent surprise by the enemy's scouting parties. 

" About daylight, Jones and his party reached the 
wood near Sykes' lime-kiln, and halted to reconnoitre. 
Sykes and four of his men were at work at that early 
hour. The lime was burning, and some of the men 
were engaged in loading and unloading two carts which 
stood near the kiln. Captain Jones' plan was quickly 
formed. He sent one half his party around to cut off 
the escape of Sykes towards the city, and when he 
thought they had reached a favorable position sallied 
3 



26 THE spy's FATE. 

out towards the kiln. When he was about half-way to 
it, Sykes discovered the party, and, shouting to his men 
to follow, ran along the bank of the river to escape ; but 
the other party cut off retreat, and Jones coming up 
rapidly, Sykes and his men were taken. Jones did not 
intend to detain the workmen any longer than till he got 
out of the reach of the British, when he would not have 
cared for their giving the alarm. Sykes seemed to be 
very anxious to know why he was arrested in that man- 
ner ; but Jones simply told him he would know when 
they got him to the American camp ; and that, if Sykes 
had not thought of a reason for his arrest, he would not 
have attempted to run away. Well, the Americans 
hurried the prisoners towards the wood, but Jones soon 
descried a large party of British coming over a neigh- 
boring hill, and knew that his chance was a desperate 
one. Sykes also discovered the party of red-coats, and 
struggled hard to make his escape from the Americans. 
Jones wanted to bring him alive to the American camp, 
or he would have shot him down at once. Suddenly, 
Sykes broke away from his captors, and ran tow^ards the 
lime-kiln. Several muskets were discharged, but all 
missed him. Then one of the privates, named Janvers, 
a daring fellow, rushed after the prisoner, and caught 
him just as he reached the kiln. There a fierce struggle 
ensued ; but Sykes was cut in the shoulder, and, in at- 
tempting to throw his antagonist into the hot lime and 
fire, was hurled into it himself. Then Janvers hurried 
to the woods after his brave comrades. The British 
party was near enough to see the struggle at the lime- 
kiln, and came on rapidly in pursuit of our men. A 



thespy'sfate. 27 

few of the red-coats were ordered to examine the lime- 
kiln, to see if Sykes was alive and concealed ; and they 
found his body burned almost to a crisp." 

" Horrible !" exclaimed Mrs. Harmar. 

" Well," continued Old Harmar, " there was a long 
and doubtful race between the two parties ; but Jones 
succeeded in getting within the lines of the Americans 
without losing a man, and with his four prisoners in safe 
custody. These fellows were examined, but no evidence 
of their being spies and confidants of Sykes could be 
produced, and they were discharged with the promise 
of a terrible punishment if they were detected tampering 
with the enemy." 

" Captain Jones was a daring fellow to venture so near 
the British Ihies, and with such a small party," observed 
Morton. 

" In such an attempt, a small party was preferable. 
Its success depended upon secrecy and quickness of 
movements," said Wilson. 

" It was a horrible death," remarked young Harmar. 
" Sykes, however, courted it by treachery to his coun- 
trymen." 



STOEY OF THE SERMON. 



'* I BELIEVE this is the first time I 've seen you since 
the disbanding of the army, Morton," said Wilson. 
*'Time has been rather severe on us both since that 
time." 

" Oh, we can 't complain," replied Morton. " We 
can 't complain. I never grumble at my age." 

" Some men would have considered themselves fortu- 
nate to have seen what you have seen," said young 
Harmar. " I think I could bear your years, to have 
your experience." 

" So do I," added Mrs. Harmar. She always agreed 
with her husband in whatever he asserted. 

" Let me see," said old Harmar ; " where did I first 
meet you, Higgins ? Oh ! was n't it just before the 
battle of Brandywine you joined the Pennsylvania line ?" 

" No," answered Smith for Higgins, who, just then, 
was endeavoring to make up for his want of teeth by 
the vigorous exertions of his jaws. " He joined at the 
same time I did, before the battle of Germantown." 

" Yes, just before the battle of Germantown," added 
Higgins. " I was not at Brandywine." 

(28) 



STORY OF THE SERMON. 29 

" You was n't ? Then you missed seeing us retreat," 
said old Harmar. "But we did considerable fightin', 
howsomever. Mad Anthony was there, and he used to 
fight, you know — at least the enemy thought so. I 
shall never forget the night before that battle." 

" Why ?" asked Higgins. " Was you on the watch ?" 

** No, not on that account ; something very different. 
There was a sermon preached on the evenin' before that 
battle, such as can only be heard once." 

"A sermon?" enquired Wilson. 

" Yes ; a sermon preached for our side by the Rev. 
Joab Prout. I told my son there about it, and he wrote 
it into a beautiful sketch for one of the papers. He 's 
got a knack of words, and can tell about it much better 
than I can. Tell them about it, Jackson, just as you 
wrote it," said old Harmar. 

" Certainly," replied young Harmar. " If I can 
recall it." 

" Do," said Mrs. Harmer ; and " Oh ! do," added the 
children ; and Mr. Jackson Harmar did — as follows : — 

"All day long, on the tenth of September, 1777, 
both armies were in the vicinity of each other, and fre- 
quent and desperate skirmishes took place between ad- 
vanced parties, without bringing on a general action. 
At length, as the day closed, both armies encamped 
within sight of each other, anxiously awaiting the mor- 
row, to decide the fate of the devoted city. 

" The Americans lay behind Chadd's Ford, with the 
shallow waters of the Brandy wine between them and 
their opponents ; the line extending two miles along that 
stream. 

3* 



30 STORY OF THE SERMON. 

"The sun was just sinking behind the dark hills of 
the west, gilding the fading heavens wdth an autumnal 
brightness, and shedding a lurid glare upon the already 
drooping and discolored foliage of the surrounding 
forests. It was an hour of solemn calm. The cool 
evening breezes stole softly through the air, as if un- 
wilhng to disturb the repose of all around. The crystal 
waters of the creek murmured gently in their narrow 
bed, and the national standard flapped lazily from the 
tall flag-staff on its banks. 

" In the American camp, interspersed between groups 
of tents and stacks of arms, might be seen little knots 
of weary soldiers seated on the ground, resting from the 
fatigues of the day, and talking in a low but animated 
tone of the coming contest. 

" Suddenly the tattoo sounded, — not loud and shrill, 
as on ordinary occasions, but in a subdued and cautious 
manner, as if fearful of being heard by the British, whose 
white tents might be seen in the distance. Obedient to 
the signal, the greater part of the soldiers assembled in 
front of the marquee of the commander, near the centre 
of the encampment. 

" All w^as hushed in expectation : soon the tall form 
of Washington, wTapped in his military cloak, and at- 
tended by a large body of officers, was seen advancing 
in their midst. All present respectfully saluted them, to 
which they bowed courteously, and then took their seats 
upon camp-stools set for them by a servant. The vene- 
rable Joab Prout, chaplain of the Pennsylvania line, then 
stood upon the stump of a tree, and commanded silence 
— for it w^as the hour of prayer. 



STORY OF THE SERMON. 31 

" Here was a scene of moral grandeur unsurpassed 
by anything in the annals of war. There, on^that still, 
cool evening, when the sky was darkening into night, 
were assembled some eight thousand men ; very many 
of whom would never look upon the glorious sunset 
again. From the humble cottages in the quiet valley of 
the Connecticut — from the statelier mansions of the sunny 
South — at the call of liberty, they had rushed to the tented 
field; and now, on the eve of battle, as brethren in heart 
and deed, had met together to implore the God of 
battles to smile upon their noble cause. 

" Oh ! it was a thrilling and an august sight ! The 
mild and dignified Washington looked around him with 
proud emotion, and turned enquiringly to the fair young 
stranger, Lafayette, beside him, as if to ask, ' Can such 
men as these be vanquished V 

'' The bold and fearless Wayne was there ; the un- 
daunted Pulaski, and the whole-hearted Kosciusko ; and 
they bowed their heads in reverence to Him in whose 
presence they were worshipping. 

" Never beneath the vaulted dome of the stately 
temple — never from the lips of the eloquent divine — was 
seen such a congregation, or was heard such a discourse, 
as on that September evening, from that humble old man, 
with his grey locks streaming in the wind. 

" With a firm, clear voice, that re-echoed to the dis- 
tant hills, he announced his text : — 

' They that take the sword shall perish by the sword,'* 

Then, straightening himself to his full height, and his eye 



32 STORY OF THE SERMON. 

beaming with a holy feeling inspired by the time and 
place, he commenced : — 

" ' They that take the sword shall perish by the sword.'* 

' Soldiers and Countrymen : 

We have met this evening perhaps for the last 
time. We have shared the toil of the march, the peril 
of the fight, the dismay of the retreat — alike we have 
endured cold and hunger, the contumely of the internal 
foe, and outrage of the foreign oppressor. We have 
sat, night after night, beside the same camp-fire, shared 
the same rough soldiers' fare ; we have together heard 
the roll of the reveille, which called us to duty, or the 
beat of the tattoo, which gave the signal for the hardy 
sleep of the soldier, with the earth for his bed, the knap- 
sack for his pillow. 

* And now, soldiers and brethren, we have met in a 
peaceful valley, on the eve of battle, while the sunlight 
is dying away behind yonder heights — the sunlight that, 
to-morrow morn, will glimmer on scenes of blood. We 
have met, amid the whitening tents of our encampment, 
— in times of terror and of gloom have we gathered to- 
gether — God grant it may not be for the last time! 

'It is a solemn moment. Brethren, does not the 
solemn voice of nature seem to echo the sympathies of 
the hour ? The flag of our country droops heavily from 
yonder staff; the breeze has died away along the green 
plain of Chadd's Ford — the plain that spreads before 
us, glistening in the sunlight ; the heights of the Brandy- 
wine arise gloomy and grand beyond the waters of 



STORY OF THE SEEMON. 33 

yonder stream, and all nature holds a pause of solemn 
silence, on the eve of the uproar and bloodshed and 
strife of to-morrow.' 

" The propriety of this language was manifest. 
Breathless attention was pictured upon every counte- 
nance, and the smallest whisper could be distinctly 
heard. Pausing a moment, as if running back, in his 
mind's eye, over the eventful past, he again repeated his 
text : — 

" ' They that take the sword shall perish by the sword.' 

'And have they not taken the sword? 

' Let the desolated plain, the blood-soddened valley, 
the burnt farm-house, blackening in the sun, the sacked 
village, and the ravaged town, answer ; let the whitening 
bones of the butchered farmer, strewn along the fields 
of his homestead, answer; let the starving mother, with 
the babe clinging to the withered breast, that can afford 
no sustenance, let her answer; with the death-rattle 
mingling with the murmuring tones that mark the last 
struggle for life — let the dying mother and her babe 
answer ! 

* It was but a day past and our land slept in peace. 
War was not here — wrong was not here. Fraud, and 
wo, and misery, and want, dwelt not among us. From 
the eternal solitude of the green woods arose the blue 
smoke of the settler's cabin, and golden fields of corn 
looked forth from amid the waste of the wilderness, and 
the glad music of human voices awoke the silence of the 
forest. 

* Now ! God of mercy, behold the change ! Under 



34 STORY or THE SERMON. 

the shadow of a pretext — under the sanctity of the name 
of God — invoking the Redeemer to their aid, do these 
foreign hirehngs slay our people ! They throng our 
towns ; they darken our plains ; and now they encom- 
pass our posts on the lonely plain of Chadd's Ford.' 

" The effect was electric. The keen eye of the in- 
trepid Wayne flashed fire. The neighboring sentinels, 
w^ho had paused to listen, quickened their pace, with a 
proud tread and a nervous feeling, impatient for ven- 
geance on the vandal foe. 

" Gathering strength once more, he checked the 
choking sensations his own recital had caused, and 
continued : 

" ' They that take the sword shall perish by the sword.' 

' Brethren, think me not unworthy of belief, when I 
tell you that the doom of the Britisher is near ! Think 
me not vain, when I tell you that beyond the cloud that 
now enshrouds us, I see gathering, thick and fast, the 
darker cloud and the blacker storm of a Divine retribu- 
tion ! 

* They may conquer us on the morrow ! Might and 
wrong may prevail, and we may be driven from this 
field — but the hour of God's own vengeance will surely 
come! 

'Ay, if in the vast solitudes of eternal space, if in the 
heart of the boundless universe, there throbs the being 
of an awful God, quick to avenge, and sure to punish 
guilt, then will the man, George of Brunswick, called 
king, feel in his brain and in his heart the vengeance of 
the Eternal Jehovah ! A blight will be upon his life — 
a withered brain, an accurst intellect ; a blight will be 



STORY OF THE SERMON. 35 

upon his children, and on his people. Great God ! how 
dread the punishment ! 

* A crowded populace, peopling the dense towns 
where the man of money thrives, while the labourer 
starves ; want striding among the people in all its forms 
of terror; an ignorant and God-defying priesthood 
chuckling over the miseries of millions ; a proud and 
merciless nobility adding wrong to wrong, and heaping 
insult upon robbery and fraud; royalty corrupt to the 
very heart ; aristocracy rotten to the core ; crime and 
want linked hand in hand, and tempting men to deeds 
of woe and death — these are a part of the doom and 
the retribution that shall come upon the English throne 
and the English people!' 

" This was pronounced with a voice of such power, 
that its tones might have reached almost to the Briton's 
camp, and struck upon the ear of Howe as the prophetic 
inspiration of one whose keen eye had read from the 
dark tablets of futurity. 

" Looking around upon the officers, he perceived that 
Washington and Lafayette had half risen from their 
seats, and were gazing spell-bound at him, as if to drink 
in every word he uttered. 

" Taking advantage of the pervading feeling, he went 
on: — 

" ' Soldiers — I look around upon your familiar faces 
with a strange interest ! To-morrow morning we will 
all go forth to battle — for need I tell you that your un- 
worthy minister will march with you, invoking God's aid 
m the fight ?^ we will march forth to battle! Need I 



86 STORY OF THE SERMON. 

exhort you to fight the good fight, to fight for your home- 
steads, and for your wives and children ? 

' My friends, I might urge you to fight, by the galUng 
memories of British wrong ! Walton — I might tell you 
of your father butchered in the silence of midnight on 
the plains of Trenton ; I might picture his grey hairs 
dabbled in blood ; I might ring his death-shriek in 
your ears. Shelmire — I might tell you of a mother 
butchered, and a sister outraged — the lonely farm-house, 
the night assault, the roof in flames, the shouts of the 
troopers, as they despatch their victim, the cries for 
mercy, the pleadings of innocence for pity. I might 
paint this all again, in the terrible colors of the vivid 
reality, if I thought your courage needed such wdld ex- 
citement. 

' But I know you are strong in the might of the 
Lord. You w^ill forth to battle on the morrow w'ith hght 
hearts and determined spirits, though the solemn duty — 
the duty of avenging the dead — may rest heavy on 
your souls. 

' And in the hour of battle, w^hen all around is dark- 
ness, lit by the lurid cannon glare and the piercing 
musket flash — when the wounded strew the ground, and 
the dead litter your path — then remember, soldiers, that 
God is wdth you. The eternal God fights for you — He 
rides on the battle cloud. He sw^eeps onward wdth the 
march of the hurricane charge — God, the Awful and 
the Infinite, fights for you, and you will triumph.' 

" Roused by this manly and pathetic appeal, a low 
murmur ran from man to man, as a heartfelt response ; 



STORY OF THE SERMON. 37 

and the chieftains who were near the speaker, felt proud 
and happy in the command of such true hearts and tried 
blades. But darkness was enveloping all, and he has- 
tened to conclude. 

" ' They that take the sword shall perish by the sword.' 

' You have taken the sword, but not in the spirit of 
wrong and ravage. You have taken the sword for your 
homes, for your wives, for your little ones. You have 
taken the sword for truth, for justice and right, and to 
you the promise is. Be of good cheer, for your foes have 
taken the sword in defiance of all that man holds dear, 
in blasphemy of God — they shall perish by the sword. 

' And now, brethren and soldiers, I bid you all fare- 
well. Many of us may fall in the fight of to-morrow — 
God rest the souls of the fallen ; many of us may live 
to tell the story of the fight of to-morrow ; and, in the 
memory of all, will ever rest and linger the quiet scene 
of this autumnal night. 

^ Solemn twilight advances over the valley; the woods 
on the opposite heights fling their long shadows over the 
green of the meadow ; around us are the tents of the 
continental host, the suppressed bustle of the camp, 
the hurried tramp of the soldiers to and fro among the 
tents, the stillness and silence that marks the eve of 
battle. 

' When we meet again, may the long shadow^s of twi- 
light be flung over a peaceful land. 

' God in heaven grant it.' 

" And now the last ray of lingering light had de- 
parted, and they were left in darkness. Presuming it 
4 



38 STORY OF THE SERMON. 

proper to dismiss his auditors, he proposed a parting 
prayer, and immediately every head was uncovered and 
bowed in reverence, while, with outstretched hands, that 
sincere old man in the homespun garb thus addressed 
the throne of grace. 

'' ' Great Father, we bow^ before thee. We invoke 
thy blessing, we deprecate thy wrath, we return thee 
thanks for the past, we ask thy aid for the future. For 
we are in times of trouble, oh, Lord! and sore beset by 
foes, merciless and unpitying; the sword gleams over 
our land, and the dust of the soil is dampened with the 
blood of our neighbors and friends. 

' Oh ! God of mercy, w^e pray thy blessing on the 
American arms. Make the man of our hearts strong in 
thy wisdom ; bless, we beseech, with renewed life and 
strength, our hope and thy instrument, even George 
Washington. Shower thy counsels on the honorable, 
the Continental Congress. Visit the tents of our host ; 
comfort the soldier in his wounds and afflictions ; nerve 
him for the hour of fight ; prepare him for the hour of 
death. 

* And in the hour of defeat, oh, God of Hosts, do 
thou be our stay ; and in the hour of triumph be thou 
our guide. 

' Teach us to be merciful. Though the memory of 
galling wrongs be at our hearts, knocking for admittance, 
that they may fill us wnth desires for revenge, yet let us, 
oh. Lord, spare the vanquished, though they never 
spared us in their hour of butchery and bloodshed. 
And,* in the hour of death, do thou guide us into the 



STORY OF THE SERMON. 39 

abode prepared for the blest ; so shall we return thanks 
unto thee, through Christ, our Redeemer. — God prosper 
THE CAUSE. — Amen.^ " 

Durmg the recital of this interesting and thrilling in- 
cident of the Revolution, the veterans — even Higgins, 
too — laid down their knives and forks, and listened as 
if carried back to the memorable eve of the battle of 
Brandywine, and filled with the hopes and fears of the 
period. At its conclusion, they expressed their appro- 
bation of the manner of the recital, and the beauty of 
the sermon. 

" That minister was one of the kind that I like," said 
Wilson. " He could preach peace as long as peace was 
wise, and buckle on his armor and fight when it became 
his duty." / 

" Mr. Harmer handles his pen well," remarked Mor- 
ton, " but such an incident would make any pen write 
w^ell of itself. There 's fire in it." 

'^ Yes, a whole heap of fire," put in Mrs. Harmar, 
"who thought she must make a remark, as she had been 
quieting the children while the latter part of the sermon 
and the remarks upon it were listened to by the others. 

" But the Lord did n't assist us much in that next 
day's battle," said old Harmar. " We had hard fight- 
ing, and then were compelled to retreat." 

"It was all for the best," said Wilson. "We 
should n't have known our enemies nor ourselves with- 
out losing that battle. The harder the struggle for 
liberty, the more w^e enjoy it when won." 

" That 's true," said young Harmar, " The freedom 



40 STORY OF THE SERMON. 

dearest bought is highest prized, and Americans have 
learned the value of that inestimable gem." 

The dinner was, by this time, pretty well disposed 
of, and the party adjourned to the large parlor, where 
they w^ere soon comfortable seated. Mrs. Harmar would 
make one of the company, and the children would force 
their way in to see and hear the " sogers." The win- 
dow's were up, and the gentle breeze of summer blew 
softly through the parlor, thus relieving the otherwise 
oppressive atmosphere. 

But we must introduce the company to the reader. 
Old Harmar was seated on one end of the sofa, with 
one of the small children on his knee. He was a stout, 
heatty-looking man of about seventy, with silvery hair, 
and a face much embrowned by exposure and furrow^ed 
by time. The general expression of his features was a 
hearty good humor, as if perfectly satisfied with things 
around. On the other end of the sofa sat Mr. Higgins, 
a thin, small-featured, bald-headed man, looking much 
older than old Mr. Harmar. On the opposite sofa sat 
Mr. Morton and Mr. Wilson. The first was a large- 
bodied, full-faced man, slightly bald, with a scar across 
his forehead, from the right eye to the left side of his 
head. His appearance bespoke an active life, and a 
strong constitution ; and his eye yet beamed wuth intel- 
ligence. Mr. Wilson was evidently about seventy-five, 
with a long, lank face, tall figure, and head scantily 
covered with grey hair. Mr. Smith sat in an easy arm- 
chair. His appearance was much the same as that of 
Mr. Higgins, though his face expressed more intelli- 



STORY OF THE SERMON. 41 

gence. He had a troublesome cough, and was evidently 
very weak. Mr. Jackson Harmar sat on a chair next to 
his father. He was about thirty-five, rather short and 
thin, with long brown hair, wild, blue eyes, in a " fine 
frenzy rolling," and a very literary appearance generally. 
Mrs. Harmar sat near her husband, with two very mis- 
chievous little boys, apparently about six and eight years 
of age, by her side. She had a childish face, but 
might have been thought pretty by a loving and indul- 
gent husband. 



STORY OF THE PRAYER. 



" There is only one other scene during the struggle 
for our country's right," said young Harmar, "which I 
would compare with the one I have just narrated ; and 
that is the scene in Congress — the old Continental Con- 
gress — during the first prayer by the Rev. Mr. Duche." 

*' I 've heard something of that prayer," said Mor- 
ton, " since the Revolution, but nothing that I could 
depend on." 

" An account of the scene is given by John Adams, 
who was a chief actor in it," said young Harmar. 

"Old John Adams?" enquired Higgins. "He was 
the man ! He was the Washington of our politics dur- 
ing the war. He was the man !" and Higgins rubbed 
his hands together. 

" Thomas Jefferson, take your foot off your brother's, 
and quit pinching him," interrupted Mrs. Harmar. 

" I have Mr. Adams' account of that first prayer and 
its effects," said young Harmar, ^* and here it is." So 
saying, he pulled from his pocket a paper into which the 
account had been copied, and read : — 

(42) 



STORY OF THE PRAYER. 43 

" ' When the Congress met, Mr. Gushing made a 
motion that it should be opened with prayer. It was 
opposed by Mr. Jay, of New York, and Mr. Rut- 
ledge, of South Carolina, because we were so di- 
vided in our religious sentiments, some Episcopahans, 
some Quakers, some Anabaptists, some Presbyterians, 
and some CongregatiOnalists, that we could not join in 
the same act of worship. Mr. Samuel Adams arose and 
said, ' that he was no bigot, and could hear a prayer 
from any gentleman of piety, and who was, at the same 
time, a friend of his country. He was a stranger in 
Philadelphia, but had heard that Mr. Duche (Dushay 
they pronounced it) deserved that character, and there- 
fore he moved that Mr. Duche, an Episcopal clergyman, 
might be desired to read prayers to the Congress to- 
morrow morning.' The motion was seconded, and 
passed in the affirmative. — Mr. Randolph, our President, 
waited on Mr. Duche, and received for answer, that if 
his health would permit he certainly would. Accord- 
ingly, next morning he appeared with his clerk, and, in 
his pontificals, read several prayers in the established 
form, and then read the collect for the seventh day of 
September, which was the thirty-fifth psalm. You must 
remember, this was the next morning after we had heard 
the rumor of the horrible cannonade of Boston. It 
seemed as if Heaven had oi'dained that psalm to he read on 
that morning. 

" ' After this, Mr. Duche, unexpectedly to every body, 
struck out into an extemporary prayer which filled the 
bosom of every man present. I must confess I never 



44 STORY OF THE PRATER. 

heard a better prayer, or one so well pronounced. Epis- 
copalian as he is, Dr. Cooper himself never prayed with 
such fervor, such correctness and patlios, and in language 
so elegant and sublime, for America, for Congress, 
for the province of Massachusetts Bay, especially the 
town of Boston. It has had an excellent effect upon 
every body here. I must beg you to read that psalm. 
If there is any faith in the sortes Virgilianae, or sortes 
Homericse, or especially the sortes Biblical, it w^ould be 
thought providential.' 

" The thirty-fifth psalm w^as indeed appropriate to the 
news received, and the exigencies of the times. It com- 
mences : — 

" ' Plead my cause, Lord, with them that fight 
against me. 

* Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for 
my help. 

^ Draw out also the spear, and stop the w^ay against 
them that persecute me : say unto my soul, I am thy 
salvation.' 

" What a subject for contemplation does this picture 
present. The forty-four members of the first Congress, 
in their Hall, all bent before the mercy-seat, and asking 
Him that their enemies ' might be as chaff before the 
wind.' Washington was kneeling there ; and Henry 
and Randolph, and Rutledge, and Lee, and Jay ; and 
by their side there stood, bowed in reverence, the Puri- 
tan patriots of New^ England, who, at that moment, had 
reason to believe that an armed soldiery was wasting 
their humble households. It was believed that Boston 



STOEY OF THE PRAYER. 45 

had been bombarded and destroyed. They prayed fer- 
vently ' for America, for the Congress, for the province 
of Massachusetts Bay, and especially for the town of 
Boston ;' and who can realize the emotion with which 
they turned imploringly to Heaven for divine interposi- 
tion and aid ? ' It was enough to melt a heart of stone. 
I saw the tears gush into the eyes of the old, grave 
Quakers of Philadelphia.' " 

u Yes," said Wilson, when young Harmar had con- 
cluded, "that was a scene equal, at least, to the one on 
the eve of Brandy wine : how finely old John Adams 
speaks about it !" 

" That Dr. Duche forgot his connexion with the 
Church of England, and only thought of his country," 
remarked Morton. " He was a good man." 

" Yes ; and he prayed in the presence of as good a 
set of men as was ever assembled together," added 
Smith. " Them was men — those Congressmen. They 
did n't get eight dollars a day for making speeches." 

" No," put in Higgins, " but they earned a great deal 
more. Some of 'em lost all the property they had, dur- 
ing the war." 

" The spirit which animated our countrymen at that 
period was the noblest which could prompt the deeds 
of men," said young Harmar, growing quite eloquent. 
" From the men who emptied the tea into Boston harbor, 
to the statesman of the Continental Congress, all were 
filled with patriotism, and that 's the most unselfish of 
human motives." 



STORY OF LYDIA DARRAGH. 



"Mrs. Harmar, your sex nobly maintained their 
reputation for devotion and patriotism during the Revo- 
lution," said Wilson. ''Did you ever hear how a 
Quaker lady, named Lydia Darragh, saved the army 
under Washington from being surprised ?" 

" No, never," replied Mrs. Harmar. 

"No! Then, as a Philadelphia lady, you should 
know about it," said Wilson. 

" The superior officers of the British army were ac- 
customed to hold their consultations on all subjects of 
importance at the house of William and Lydia Darragh, 
members of the Society of Friends, immediately oppo- 
site to the quarters of the commander-in-chief, in Second 
street. It was in December, in the year that they occu- 
pied the city, that the adjutant-general of the army 
desired Lydia to have an apartment prepared for himself 
and friends, and to order her family early to bed ; add- 
ing, when ready to depart, 'Notice shall be given to you 
to let us out, and to extinguish the fire and candles.' 
The manner of delivering this order, especially that part 
of it which commanded the early retirement of her 

(46) 



STORY OF LYDIA DARRAGH. 47 

family, strongly excited Lydia's curiosity, and deter- 
mined her, if possible, to discover the mystery of their 
meeting. Approaching without shoes the room in which 
the conference was held, and placing her ear to the key- 
hole, she heard the order read for the troops to quit the 
city on the night of the 4th, to attack the American army 
encamped at White Marsh. Returning immediately to 
her room, she laid herself down, but, in a little while, a 
loud knocking at the door, which for some time she pre- 
tended not to hear, proclaimed the intention of the party 
to retire. Having let them out, she again sought her 
bed, but not to sleep ; the agitation of her mind pre- 
vented it. She thought only of the dangers that threat- 
ened the lives of thousands of her countrymen, and 
believing it to be in her power to avert the evil, deter- 
mined, at all hazards, to apprize General Washington 
of his danger. Telling her husband, at early dawn, that 
flour was wanting for domestic purposes, and that she 
should go to Frankford to obtain it, she repaired to head- 
quarters, got access to General Howe, and obtained 
permission to pass the British hues. Leaving her bag at 
the mill, Lydia now pressed forward towards the Ameri- 
can array, and meeting Captain Allen M'Lean, an officer, 
from his superior intelligence and activity, selected by 
General Washington to gain intelligence, discovered to 
him the important secret, obtaining his promise not to 
jeopardize her safety by telling from whom he had ob- 
tained it. Captain M'Lean, with all speed, informed the 
commander-in-chief of his danger, who, of course, took 
every necessary step to baffle the contemplated enter- 
prize, and to show the enemy that he was prepared to 



48 STORY OF LYDIA DAEEAGH. 

receive them. Lydia returned home with her flour, 
secretly watched the movements of the British, and saw 
them depart. Her anxiety during their absence was 
excessive, nor was it lessened when, on their return, the 
adjutant-general, summoning her to his apartment and 
locking the door with an air of mystery, demanded 
' Whether any of the family were up on the night that 
he had received company at her house ?' She told him, 
that, without an exception, they had all retired at eight 
o'clock. ^ You, I know, Lydia, were asleep, for I 
knocked at your door three times before you heard me, 
yet, although I am at a loss to conceive who gave the 
information of our intended attack to General Washing- 
ton, it is certain we were betrayed ; for, on arriving near 
his encampment, we found his cannon mounted, his 
troops under arms, and at every point so perfecdy pre- 
pared to receive us, that we were compelled, like fools, 
to make a retrograde movement, without inflicting on 
our enemy any manner of injury whatever.' " 

"Ha! ha! a neat stratagem, and a patriotic woman," 
exclaimed young Harmar. 

" Talkino- of the services of the women durino^ the 
war," said Higgins, " reminds me of Molly Macauly, 
or Sergeant Macauly, as we knew her while in the army. 
She w^as a Pennsylvanian, and was so enthusiastic in her 
patriotism, that she donned a man's dress, and joined 
the army, when she became a sergeant, and fought 
bravely in several battles and skirmishes. Nobody sus- 
pected that she was not what she seemed to be ; for she 
was tall, stout, and rough-looking, and associated with 
the men very freely. Molly had a custom of swinging 



STORY OF LYDIA DARRAGH. 49 

her sabre over her head, and hurraing for Mad Anthony, 
as she called General Wayne. She was wounded at 
Brandywine, and, her sex being discovered, returned 
home." 

" She was not the only woman in disguise in the 
army," said old Harmar. " There was Elizabeth Can- 
ning, who was at Fort Washington, and, when her hus- 
band was killed, took his place at the gun, loading, 
priming, and firing with good effect, till she was wounded 
in the breast by a grape-shot. While our army lay at 
Valley Forge, several Pennsylvania women were detected 
in disguise, enduring all kinds of want, and with less 
murmuring than the men themselves. Oh, yes! the 
women were all right in those days, however they may 
have degenerated since." 

" Come, no slander on the women of the present 
day," said Mrs. Harmar. " I 've no doubt, take them 
all in all, they will not suffer in comparison with those 
of any age." 

" Bravo ! Mrs. Harmar," exclaimed Wilson. 

" Women, now, are ready enough with disguises," 
remarked young Harmar. 

"To be sure !" replied his wife, " and always were." 



THE 

DEAD MAN'S LAKE 



" Mr. Smith, can 't we have a leaf from your experi- 
ence in those trying times ?" said old Harmar. 

" Ah ! sir, I would have much to tell if I had time to 
collect my memory — much to tell, sir. But though I 
saw a great deal in the Revolution, I heard much more." 

" Tell us anything to pass time," said young Harmar. 
" I 've heard my father speak of some bold exploits up 
in the vicinity of New York. The history of the Cow- 
boys and Skinners always interested me." 

" Ah ! I 've heard many a story of them," replied 
Smith. *' I '11 tell you of one old Jack Hanson told me — 
you recollect old Jack, do n't you, Harmar ? He was 
with us at Valley Forge." 

" That I do," replied old Harmer. " He gave me a 
piece of his blanket, and an old shoe, when I believe I 
was freezing to death." 

"Yes, he was ever a good-hearted fellow — Jack 
Hanson was. He 's been dead now about ten years. 
Well, as I was saying, he told me a story about those 
Cow-boys and Skinners which will bear telling again." 

"It happened when the British were in possession 
of the city of New York. Many brave men did all that 

(50) 



THE DEAD MANS LAKE. 51 

could be done to destroy the power and comfort of the 
king's representatives, and alarm them for their personal 
safety ; and, to the greater part of them, the neighboring 
county of West Chester furnished both the home, and a 
theatre of action. Their system of warfare partook of 
the semi-savage and partisan predatory character, and 
many fierce and desperate encounters took place between 
them and the outlawed hordes of desperadoes in the pay 
of the British. 

*' The refugees, banded together for the purpose of 
preying upon the patriots, and then retreating behind the 
shelter of the royal fortifications, were composed of the 
vilest miscreants that could be gathered from the dregs 
of any community, and were generally known by the 
slang name of ' Skinners.' 

'* To oppose these desperadoes, and protect their lives 
and property from insult, many of the whigs had united 
in small parties, and were styled by the Skinners, in 
derision, the ' Cow-boys.' One of the most active and 
energetic of these bands, ever ready for any species of 
patriotic duty, was led by Nicholas Odell. Nick, as he 
was familiarly termed, though entirely uneducated, was 
one of the shrew^dest men to be found ; for Nature had 
gifted him where cultivation was wanting, and he be- 
came, in consequence, a most formidable and dangerous 
enemy in the service he had chosen. But fifty men 
composed his entire force, and with these he did his 
country much service, and the enemy no little mischief. 

" The line of the Bronx River was the route always 
kept in view by Nick and his men ; and, at six several 
points, places of rendezvous were established, at which 



52 THE DEAD MAN'S LAKE. 

they were generally to be found when off duty, which 
was, indeed, seldom the case. 

" One of these places was on the banks of that stream, 
where the water was so wide and deep as to render it 
perilous for any but an expert and experienced swim- 
mer to attempt its passage, and always placid, with a 
sort of oily surface looking like the backed waters of a 
mill-pond. The banks were covered with a thick un- 
dergrowth of vines, saplings, and trees in abundance, 
so that autumn did not, by taking away the leaves, 
expose the spot to the observation of the passer-by. Here 
a rude board shanty had been knocked up in a hurry, 
and was used to shelter the men from the intense cold 
of the winter nights. This episode in the stream Nick 
had named ^ Dead Man's Lake,' in consequence of find- 
ing on its banks the body of a man who had been mur- 
dered and mutilated by his old enemies, the Skinners. 

" One evening, in the depth of winter, Nick, who had 
been a long distance above White Plains, hastened back 
to the lake in order to intercept a body of Skinners, on 
their way from Connecticut to the city, with considerable 
booty taken from the inhabitants in the vicinity of the 
Sound. They numbered about eighty, under the control 
of a petty Scotch officer named McPherson. Nick had 
contrived to gain intelligence of their movements and 
access to their party, by means of John Valentine, one 
of his own scouts, who, by his direction, had met and 
joined the tories with a specious tale, and promised to 
lead them through the country so securely that none of 
the prowling rebels should encounter them. 



THE DEAD MAN'S LAKE. 53 

" Previous to John's starting on his perilous adven- 
ture, it was agreed that Nick, with all his men, should 
remain the whole night in question concealed at the lake, 
without entering the hut. John was then to bring the 
refugees to the spot, shelter them in the hut, and, at a 
favorable moment, he would sing out, ^ Hurrah for 
Gin'ral Washington, and down with the red-coats!' 
when the Cow-boys were to rush in, and take them 
by surprise. 

" Having reached the lake about nine o'clock in the 
evening, Nick proceeded to devise a plan for conceal- 
ment, for he expected to wait several hours. The cold 
was intense, and, like all the servants of Congress, Nick 
and his men were but ill prepared to resist the in- 
clemency of the weather. 

" Nick was in perplexity ; no plan could be devised 
with satisfaction to the majority, and they stood in abso- 
lute danger of perishing with cold. The debate on the 
subject was still in progress, when heavy flakes of snow 
began to fall briskly, with promising appearances of a 
long continuance. ' Good !' said Nick, half in soliloquy, 
as he viewed the feathery element, and a new idea 
seemed to strike him, * I have hit it at last. Boys, no 
grumblin' or skulkin' now, for I won't have it. You 
must do as I am goin' to order, or we part company.' 

" So saying, he directed the whole of his men to enter a 
swamp meadow which was behind the shanty, and had 
been rendered hard and porous by the weather. Here 
he directed them to spread their blankets, and lie down 
with the locks of their muskets between their knees, and 
the muzzle protected by a wooden stopper kept for the 
5* 



64 THE DEAD MAN'S LAKE. 

purpose. Nick enforced this command with an expla- 
nation of its advantages : the snow being dry, and not 
subject to drift, would soon cover them, keeping them 
quite warm, and would also conceal them at their ease. 
The porous quality of the ground would enable them to 
distinguish the distant approach of the enemy, and there- 
fore they could snatch a few moments sleep in the snow. 
To prevent its being fatal or injurious, he made each 
man, previous to lying down, drink freely of rye w^hiskey. 
Four long hours elapsed, by which time the hardy pa- 
triots were completely under the snow, being covered 
with nearly eight inches of it. 

" The keenest eye, or acutest cunning, could not have 
detected in those undulating hillocks aught but the natu- 
ral irregularities of swampy ground. 

" At length, about two o'clock in the morning, John 
arrived with his devoted followers. They w^ere right 
thankful for the shelter of the shanty, and McPherson 
swore he would report John's generous conduct at head- 
quarters, and procure him a deserved reward. 

" '■ Wait,' said John ; ' I have not done the half that I 
intend to do for you? 

" Nick, whose hed was nearest the hovel, now^ arose, 
and placed himself against it, that he might be ready to 
act when John's signal was given. He first, however, 
awoke his men, without permitting them to rise, by the 
summary process of slightly pricking each one with the 
sharp point of a bayonet. 

" The tories, stowed like sheep in the little hut, soon 
began to drink, and, as they did so, became very valor- 



THE DEAD MAN'S LAKE. 55 

ous and boastful. McPherson, singularly communicative 
to John, detailed his atrocities on the route with savage 
exultation. He feared no assault — not he ! He was 
strong enough to repel any handful of half-starved, skulk- 
ing outlaws. If he caught any of the Cow-boys he 
would hang them to their own trees, and manure the 
soil wdth the blood of their women. 

"John had crept to the door by degrees, and now 
stood with his hand upon the raised latchet. He ap- 
plauded the officer's remarks, and w^as willing, he said, 
to aid him in the deed he contemplated. He then 
proposed a toast, and, filling a tin-cup with liquor, 
said in a loud voice, ' Hurrah for Gin^ral Washington.^ 
and down with the red-coats P The liquor was dashed 
in McPherson's face, and John vanished from the hut. 
Nick immediately summoned his men by a repetition of 
the toast, and the fifty hillocks of snow were suddenly 
changed, as if by magic, into as many armed and furious 
' rebels.' Before the Skinners could recover from the 
momentary surprise into which this curious incident had 
thrown them, a volley of powder and shot had been 
fired into their midst. Dashing like a frightened hare 
through the open door, McPherson beheld his assailants. 
His fears magnified their numbers, and, conceiving there 
was no hope in fight ^ he summoned his men to follow 
him m flight. 

" They madly rushed after him, and forcing their w^ay 
through the dry limbs of brush that stuck up on the 
banks of the lake, gained the frozen surface. More than 
one half their number had taken this course, while the 
rest had either fallen victims to the first fire, or taken to 



56 THE DEAD man's LAKE. 

their heels towards the main road. Suddenly a terrible 
crash was heard, accompanied by a splash, and a hub- 
bub of unearthly screams. The ice had broken, and 
' Dead Man's Lake ' was accomplishing a victory for the 
handful of American patriots who stood upon its banks. 

" The result was, that over twenty of the Skinners 
were taken prisoners. Only half-a-dozen were killed by 
fire-arms. The lake was examined at sunrise, and fifteen 
bodies were drawn from its remorseless bosom. The 
remainder, McPherson among them, escaped." 

*' That Nick Odell was nearly equal to old Nick 
himself in stratagems," said Wilson, when Smith had 
concluded. 

" It 's a wonder the men did n't freeze to death under 
the snow," said Morton. " I think I should have been 
opposed to trying such a way of disposing of myself." 

" Oh ! there 's no doubt about its keeping you warm," 
said old Harmar. 

" How can cold snow keep men warm ?" enquired 
Thomas Jefferson Harmar. 

" I suppose," answered Higgins, " that it 's much 
like blowing your warm breath on anything hot to cool 
it." 

As nobody seemed disposed to contradict this expla- 
nation, old Higgins took it for granted that he was cor- 
rect ; and Thomas Jefferson was satisfied. 



STORY OF THE HALF-BREED. 



" Now," said young Harmar, who, as a literary 
gentleman, was anxious to collect as many incidents of 
the Revolution as he could from these old men ; " now, 
Mr. Higgins, you must oblige us by recalling something 
of your experience." 

" Ah !" replied Higgins, " if I could tell in words a 
small part of what I know of the war, I 'm sure I could 
interest you." 

" We are not critical," said old Harmar. " Jackson 
may think of his bookish notions sometimes ; but he 
knows what kind of old men we are. Narrate anything 
that comes uppermost." 

" Well," commenced Higgins, ^' I '11 tell you about an 
adventure of a friend of mine, named Humphries, with a 
half-breed — that's horribly interesting — if I can only 
recollect it." And, after a short pause, to let his old 
memory bring up the incidents from the far past, Higgins 
told the following story of revenge. 

" In the country around Saratoga, when General 
Gates lay encamped there, lived a half-breed Indian, 
called Blonay. He was well known in the neighborhood 

(57) 



68 STORY OF THE HALF-BREED. 

as a fierce, and outlawed character, who wandered and 
skulked from place to place, sometimes pretending to be 
for the Americans, and, at others, for the tories. He 
went anywhere, and did everything to serve his own 
ends ; but his whole life, and all his actions, seemed 
centred in one darling object, and that was revenge. He 
had deeply and fearfully sworn never to rest until he had 
drawn the heart's blood of Humphries, a member of 
Morgan's corps, and his greatest enemy. They had 
been*mortal foes from boyhood, and a blow Humphries 
had given Blpnay had fixed their hatred for life. He 
had pursued him from place to place with untiring vigi- 
lance, and had watched, day after day, and month after 
month, for an opportunity to glut his revenge, but none 
offered. 

"One morning, Humphries and a comrade named 
Davis, with a negro servant belonging to Marion's band, 
were standing on a small hill near the encampment, when 
a strange dog suddenly appeared through the bushes, at 
the sight of which Humphries seized his rifle, and raised 
it to his eye, as if about to fire. The black was about 
to express his surprise at this sudden ferocity of manner, 
when, noticing that the dog was quiet, he lowered the 
weapon, and, pointing to the animal, asked Davis if he 
knew it. ' I do ; but can 't say where I 've seen him,' 
replied the other. ^ And what do you say, Tom?' he 
asked of the black, in tones that startled him. ' Do n't 
you know that dog?' * He face berry familiar, massa, 
but I loss to recollect.' * That 's the cur of Blonay, and 
the bear-eyed rascal must be in the neighborhood.' ' Do 
you think so ?' inquired Davis. ' Think so ! I know so ; 



STORY OF THE HALF-BREED. 69 

and why should he be here if his master was not ?' 
' Tom,' he continued, ^ hit the critter a smart blow with 
your stick — hard enough to scare him off, but not to 
hurt him ; and do you move to the edge of the creek, 
Davis, as soon as the dog runs off, for his master must 
be in that direction, and I want to see him.' 

" Thus ordering, he called two of the riflemen that 
w^ere near, and sent them on the path directly opposite 
to that taken by Davis. He himself prepared to strike 
the creek at a point between these two. He then made 
a signal, and Tom gave the dog a heavy blow, which 
sent him howling into the swamp, taking, as they had 
expected, the very path he came. Blonay, however, 
was not to be caught napping. He left the point from 
which he was watching the camp, and running in a line 
for some fifty yards, turned suddenly about for the point 
at which he had entered the swamp. But he could not 
but have some doubts as to the adequacy of his conceal- 
ment. He cursed the keen scent of the dog, which he 
feared would too quickly discover him to his pursuers. 
He hurried on, therefore, taking the water at every 
chance, to leave as small a trail as possible ; but, from 
place to place, the cur kept after him, giving forth an 
occasional yelp. ' Aroint the pup ! there 's no losin' 
him. If I had my hand on him, I should knife him as 
my best caution,' exclaimed the half-breed, as the bark 
of the dog, in making a new trail, showed the success 
with which he pursued him. Exasperated, he rose upon 
a stump, and saw the head of Humphries, who was still 
pressing on, led by the cries of the dog. 



60 STORY OF THE HALF-BREED. 

" ^ I can hit him now,' muttered Blonay. ' It 's not 
two hundred yards, and I 've hit a smaller mark than 
that at a greater distance, before now.' 

" He raised the rifle and brought the sight to his eye, 
and would have fired, but the next minute Humphries 
was covered by a tree. The dog came on, and Blonay 
heard the voices of his pursuers behind ; and just then 
the dog reached him. 

" The faithful animal, little knowing the danger into 
which he had brought his master, leaped fondly upon 
him, testifying his joy by yelping with his greatest vocal 
powers. 

" With a hearty curse, Blonay grasped the dog by the 
back of the neck, and, drawing the skin tightly across 
the throat, quickly passed the keen edge of his knife but 
once over it, and then thrust the body from him. Sheath- 
ing his knife and seizing his rifle, he again set forward, 
and did not stop till he gained a small but thick under- 
brush. His pursuers now came up to the dead body of 
the dog ; seeing which, they considered further pursuit 
hopeless. 

" At this moment, sounds of a trumpet came from the 
camp, as the signal to return. Humphries told the others 
to obey its summons, but avowed his determination of 
pursuing Blonay until he or the other had fallen. After 
they had left him, he again set forward, and walked very 
fast in the direction he supposed his enemy had taken, 
and had not proceeded far ere he saw^ his track in 
the mud, which he followed until it w^as lost among the 
leaves. Darkness coming on, he gave up the chase 



STORY OF THE HALF-BREED. 61 

until the next morning. That night both slept in the 
swamp, not more than two hundred yards apart, but 
unconscious of each other's locality. In the morning, 
Humphries was the first to awake. Descending from the 
tree where he had slept, he carefully looked around, 
thinking what he should do next. While he thus stood, 
a slight noise reached his ears, sounding like the friction 
of bark; a repetition of it showed where it came, from. 
He glanced at an old cypress which stood in the water 
near him, and saw that its trunk was hollow, but did not 
look as if it would hold a man. On a sudden, some- 
thing prompted him to look upward, and, in the quick 
glance he gave, the glare of a wild and well-known eye, 
peeping out upon him from its woody retreat, met his 
gaze. With a howl of delight, he raised his rifle, and 
the drop of the deadly instrument fell upon the aperture ; 
but before he could draw the trigger the object was gone. 
It was Blonay, who, the moment he perceived the aim 
of Humphries' piece, sank into the body of the tree. 

" ' Come out and meet your enemy like a man!' ex- 
claimed Humphries, * and don't crawl, like a snake, into 
a hollow tree, and wait for his heel. Come out, you 
skunk ! You shall have fair fight, and your own dis- 
tance. It shall be the quickest fire that shall make the 
difference of chances between us. Come out, if you 're 
a man !' Thus he raved at him ; but a fiendish laugh 
was the only answer he got. He next tried to cut his 
legs with his knife, by piercing the bark ; but a bend of 
the tree, on which Blonay rested, prevented him. He 
then selected from some fallen limbs one of the largest, 
6 



62 STORY OF THE HALF-BREED. 

which he carried to the tree and thrust into the hollow, 
trying to wedge it between the inner knobs on which the 
feet of the half-breed evidently were placed. But Blonay 
soon became aware of his design, and opposed it with 
a desperate effort. Baffled for a long time by his enemy, 
Humphries became enraged, and, seizing upon a jagged 
knot of light wood, he thrust it against one of the legs 
of Blonay. Using another heavy knot as a mallet, he 
drove the wedge forward against the yielding flesh, which 
became awfully torn and lacerated by the sharp edges 
of the wood. Under the severe pain, the feet w^ere 
drawn up, and Humphries was suffered to proceed with 
his original design. The poor wretch, thus doomed to 
be buried alive, was now willing to come to any terms, 
and agreed to accept the offer to fight ; but Humphries 
refused him, exclaiming, ' No, you do n't, you cowardly 
skunk ! you shall die in your hole, like a varmint as you 
are ; and the tree which has been your house shall be 
your coffin. There you shall stay, if hard chunks and 
solid wood can keep you, until your yellow flesh rots 
away from your bones. You shall stay there until the 
lightning rips open your coffin, or the autumn winds 
tumble you into the swamp.' So saying, he left him, 
and went back to the camp — left him to die in the old 
woods, where no help could ever come ; and in this 
wild and awful manner — buried alive — perished the 
savage half-breed." 

" That was an awful death, indeed," exclaimed Mrs. 
Harmar. " That Humphries must have been a very 
disagreeable fellow." 



STORY OF THE HALF-BREED. 63 

"And why so ?" enquired Higgins. "The men in 
those parts of the country were forced to be as fierce as 
their foes. Humphries was one of the cleverest fellows 
I ever knew." 

" A man after your own heart," remarked Smith. 
"A warm friend and a warm foe. I know you, 
Higgins." 

"You should know me. Smith, or no man should," 
replied Higgins, evidently profoundly satisfied with him- 
self. 

" Many a time have we messed together," added 
Smith ; " ay, and many a time have we hunted in com- 
pany for the food we made a mess of." 

" Those times are gone," said old Harmar mournfully. 
"Those times are gone." 

"I wonder where?" put in Mrs. Harmar's youngest, 
looking up in her face for an answer. She smoothed his 
hair, and shook her head. 



STORY 



DEATH OF COLONEL LOVELACE 



" Speaking of awful deaths," said Morton, " reminds 
me of a scene I witnessed at Saratoga, which I may as 
w^ell tell you about, as young Mr. Harmar seems anxious 
to hear anything relating to the war of independence. 
You know there was an unconscionable number of tori^s 
up there in New York State about the time of Burgoyne's 
invasion. Some of them were honest, good sort of men, 
who did n't happen to think just as we did : they kept 
at home, and did not lift their arms against us during the 
\var, though some of them were pretty hardly used by 
their whig neighbors. Another set of the tories, how- 
ever, acted upon the maxim that * might makes right.' 
They were w^higs when the royal power was weak, and 
tories when they found it strong. Though raised in the 
same neighborhood with the staunch whigs, these men 
turned robbers and murderers, and lost all virtuous and 
manly feelings. Colonel Tom Lovelace was one of this 
class. He was born and raised in the Saratoga district, 
and yet his old neighbors dreaded him almost as much 
as if he had been one of the fierce Senecas. When the 

(64) 



STORY OF COL. LOVELACE. 65 

war commenced, Lovelace went to Canada, and there 
confederated with five men from his own district, to 
come down to Saratoga, and kill, rob, or betray his old 
neighbors and friends. There 's no denying Lovelace 
was a bold, wary, and cunning fellow, and he made the 
worst use of his qualities. He fixed his quarters in a 
large swamp, about five miles from the residence of 
Colonel Van Vechten, at Dovegat, and very cunningly 
concealed them. 

"Soon after, the robberies and captures around that 
neighborhood became frequent. General Schuyler's 
house was robbed, and an attempt was made, by Love- 
lace and his companions, to carry oflf Colonel Van 
Vechten. But General Stark, who was in command of 
the barracks north of Fish Creek, was too wide awake 
for him. He got wind of the scheme, and gave the 
Colonel a strong guard, and so Lovelace was balked, 
and compelled to give up his design. Captain Dunham, 
who commanded a company of militia in the neighbor- 
hood, found out the tory colonel's place of concealment, 
and he determined to attempt his capture. Accordingly, 
he summoned his lieutenant, ensign, orderly, and one 
private, to his house ; and, about dusk, they started for 
the swamp, which was two miles distant. Having 
separated to reconnoitre, two of them, named Green 
and Guiles, got lost ; but the other three kept together, 
and, about dawn, discovered Lovelace and his party, in 
a hut covered over with boughs, just drawing on their 
stockings. The three men crawled cautiously forward 
till near the hut, when they sprang up with a shout, 
6* 



DO STORY OF COL. LOVELACE. 

levelled their muskets, and Captain Dunham sang out, 
* Surrender, or you are all dead men !' There was no 
time for parley ; and the tory rascals, believing that our 
men were down on them in force, came out one by one, 
without arms, and Dunham and his men marched them 
off to General Stark's quarters. The rascals were all 
tried by court-martial, as spies, traitors, and robbers ; and 
Lovelace was sentenced to be hung, as he was considered 
too dangerous to be allowed to get loose again. He 
made complaint of injustice, and said he ought to be 
treated as a prisoner of war ; but our general could not 
consent to look upon such a villain as an honorable sol- 
dier, and his sentence was ordered to be carried into 
effect three days afterwards. I was then with a company 
of New York volunteers, sent to reinforce General Stark, 
and I was enabled to gratify my desire to witness the 
execution of a man I detested. The gallows was put 
up on the high bluff a few miles south of Fish Creek, 
near our barracks. When the day arrived, I found that 
our company was on the guard to be posted near the 
gallows. It was a gloomy morning, and about the time 
the tory colonel was marched out to the gallows, and we 
were placed in position at the foot of the bluff, a tremen- 
dous storm of wind and rain came on. It was an awful 
scene. The sky seemed as black as midnight, except 
when the vivid sheets of lightning glared and shot across 
it ; and the peals of thunder were loud and long. Love- 
lace knelt upon the scaffold, and the chaplain prayed 
with him. I think if there was anything could change 
a man's heart, it must have been the thought of dying at 



STORY OF COL. LOVELACE. 67 

such a time, when God himself seemed wrathful at the 
deeds of men. 

" I expected to be delighted with seeing such a man 
hung ; but I tell you, my friends, I felt very differently 
when the time came, and I saw the cruel tory kneeling 
on the scaffold, while the lightning seemed to be quiver- 
ing over the gallows. I turned away my head a moment, 
and when I looked again, the body of Lovelace was 
suspended in the air, and his spirit had gone to give its 
account to its God." 

The account of this terrible scene had deeply interested 
the company ; and the animated manner of Morton im- 
pressed even the children with a feeling of awe. 

" Why did n't they postpone the hanging of the man 
until there was a clear day ?" enquired Mrs. Harmar. 

"Executions are never postponed on account of the 
weather, my dear," repHed her husband. " It would be 
rather cruel than otherwise thus to delay them." 

" I 've heard of that Lovelace before," remarked old 
Harmar. " I judged that he was a bold villain from 
some of his outrages, and I think he deserved his death." 

"For my part," said Higgins, " I hated the very name 
of a tory so much, during the war, that I believe I could 
have killed any man who dared to speak in their defence. 
All that I knew or heard of w^ere blood-thirsty scoun- 
drels." 



STOKY 



MURDER OF MISS M'CREA, 



" If you were at Saratoga, Mr. Morton, perhaps you 
know something about the murder of Miss M'Crea," 
said Mrs. Harmar. 

" Oh, yes! I know the real facts of the case," repUed 
Morton. " I got them from one who was acquainted 
with her family. The real story is quite different from 
the one we find in the histories of the war, and which 
General Gates received as true." 

" Then set us right upon the matter," remarked young 
Harmar. 

" Do," added Wilson. " I 've heard the story 
through two or three twistings, and I 'm only satisfied 
that the lady was killed." 

" Well," commenced Morton, " what I now tell you 
may depend on as the truest account you can receive. 
No one but Heaven and the Indians themselves witnessed 
the death of the young girl ; and our only evidence of a 
positive nature is the declaration of those who were sup- 
posed to be her murderers. But to the story. 

"Jane M'Crea, or Jenny M'Crea, as she is more 
generally known, was the daughter of a Scotch clergy- 

(68) 



STORY OF MISS M'CREA. "69 

man, who resided in Jersey City, opposite New York. 
While living with her father, an intimacy grew up be- 
tween the daughter of a Mrs. M'Niel and Jenny. Mrs. 
M'Niel's husband dying, she went to live on an estate 
near Fort Edward. Soon after, Mr. M'Crea died, and 
Jenny went to live with her brother near the same place. 
There the intimacy of former years was renewed, and 
Jenny spent much of her time at the house of Mrs. 
M'Niel and her daughter. Near the M'Niel's lived a 
family named Jones, consisting of a widow and six sons. 
David Jones, one of the sons, became acquainted with 
Jenny, and at length this friendship deepened into love. 
When the war broke out, the Jones's took the royal side 
of the question; and, in the fall of 1776, David and 
Jonathan Jones went to Canada, raised a company, and 
joined the British garrison at Crown Point. They both 
afterwards attached themselves to Burgoyne's army; 
David being made a lieutenant in Frazer's division. 
The brother of Jenny M'Crea was a whig, and, as the 
British army advanced, they prepared to set out for 
Albany. Mrs. M'Niel was a loyalist, and, as she re- 
mained, Jenny remained with her, perhaps with the hope 
of seeing David Jones. 

" At length Jenny's brother sent her a peremptory 
order to join him, and she promised to comply the next 
day after receiving it. On the morning of that day, (I 
believe it was the 27th of July,) a black servant boy be- 
longing to Mrs. M'Niel discovered some Indians ap- 
proaching the house, and, giving the alarm, he ran to 
the fort, which was but a short distance off. Mrs. 



70 STORY OF MISS M'CREA. 

M'Niel, Jenny, a black woman, and two children, were 
in the house when the alarm was given. Mrs. M'Niel's 
eldest daughter was at Argyle. The black w^oman 
seized the two children, fled through the back door into 
the kitchen, and down into the cellar. Jenny and Mrs. 
M'Niei followed ; but the old woman was corpulent, and 
before they could descend, a powerful Indian seized Mrs. 
M'Niel by the hair and dragged her up. Another 
brought Jenny out of the cellar. But the black woman 
and the children remained undiscovered. The Indians 
started off with the two women on the road towards 
Burgoyne's camp. Having caught two horses that were 
grazing, they attempted to place their prisoners upon 
them. Mrs. M'Niel being too heavy to ride, two stout 
Indians took her by the arms, and hurried her along, 
while the others, with Jenny on horseback, proceeded 
by another path through the woods. The negro boy 
having alarmed the garrison at the fort, a detachment 
was sent out to effect a rescue. They fired several 
volleys at the party of Indians ; and the Indians said 
that a bullet intended for them mortally wounded Jenny, 
and she fell from her horse ; and that they then stripped 
her of her clothing and scalped her, that they might ob- 
tain the reward offered for those things by Burgoyne. 
"Mrs. M'Niel said that the Indians who were hurry- 
ing her along seemed to watch the flash of the guns, 
and fell down upon their faces, dragging her down with 
them. When they got beyond the reach of the firing, 
the Indians stript the old lady of everything except her 
chemise, and in that plight carried her into the British 
camp. There she met her kinsman, General Frazer, 



stortofmissm'crea. 71 

who endeavored to make her due reparation for what 
she had endured. Soon after, the Indians who had been 
left to bring Jenny arrived with some scalps, and Mrs. 
M'Niel immediately recognised the long bright hair of 
the poor girl who had been murdered. She charged the 
savages with the crime, but they denied it, and explained 
the manner of her death. Mrs. M'Niel was compelled 
to believe their story, as she knew it was more to the in- 
terest of the Indians to bring in a prisoner than a scalp. 

" It being known in camp that Lieutenant Jones was 
betrothed to Jenny, some lively imagination invented the 
story that he had sent the Indians to bring her to camp, 
and that they quarrelled, and one of them scalped her. 
This story seemed to be confirmed by General Gates' 
letter to Burgoyne, and soon spread all over the country, 
making the people more exasperated against the British 
than ever. Young Jones was horror-stricken by the 
death of his betrothed, and immediately offered to resign 
his commission, but they would not allow him. He 
bought Jenny's scalp, and then, with his brother, de- 
serted, and fled to Canada." 

" Did you ever hear what became of him ?" enquired 
Mrs. Harmar. 

" Yes ; he was living in Canada the last time I heard 
of him," replied Morton. " He never married ; and, 
from being a lively, talkative fellow, he became silent 
and melancholy." 

" Poor fellow! It was enough to make a man silent 
and melancholy," remarked young Harmar. " I can 
imagine how I would have felt if deprived of her I loved, 
in as tragical a manner." 



72 STORY OF MISS M'CREA. 

"Don't — don't mention it, my dear 1" exclaimed 
his wife, sensibly affected at the thought of her being 
scalped. 

*' It was a horrible transaction," remarked Wilson ; 
" and it had a stirring effect upon our people. I can 
recollect when I first heard the story with all its embel- 
lishments ; I felt as if I could have eaten up all the red 
varmints I should chance to meet." 

" General Gates's version of the affair answered a 
good purpose," said Higgins. " It roused our people to 
great exertions to defeat the designs of a government 
which employed those savages." 

" King George's government thought it had a right to 
make use of every body — rascals and honest men — to 
effect its design of enslaving us ; but we taught 'em a 
thing or two," added Morton, with a gratified smile. 



STOEY 



DEFENCE OF SHELL'S BLOCK-HOUSE. 



" I SUPPOSE," said young Harmar, " that, while you 
were up in New York, you heard of many bloody affairs 
with the Indians and tories." 

" Many a one," replied Morton. " Many a one, sir. 
I could interest you for days in recounting all I saw and 
heard. The poor whigs suffered a great deal from the 
rascals — they did. Those in Tryon county, especially, 
w^ere always exposed to the attacks of the savages. I 
recollect an affair that occurred at a settlement called 
Shell's Bush, about five miles from Herkimer village. 

" A wealthy German, named John Shell, had built a 
block-house of his own. It was two stories high, and 
built so as to let those inside fire straight down on the 
assailants. One afternoon in August, while the people 
of the settlement were generally in the fields at work, a 
Scotchman named M'Donald, with about sixty Indians 
and tories, made an attack on Shell's Bush. Most of 
the people fled to Fort Dayton, but Shell and his family 
took refuge in the block-house. The father and two 
sons were at work in the field when the alarm was given. 
The sons were captured, but the father succeeded in 
7 (73) 



74 STORY OF THE DEFENCE 

reaching the block-house, which was then besieged. 
Old Shell had six sons with him, and his wife loaded the 
muskets, which were discharged with sure aim. This 
litde garrison kept their foes at a distance. M'Donald 
tried to burn the block-house, but did not succeed. 
Furious at the prospect of being disappointed of his 
expected prey, he seized a crowbar, ran up to the door, 
and attempted to force it ; but old Shell fired and shot 
him in the leg, and then instantly opened the door and 
made him a prisoner. M'Donald was well supplied with 
cartridges, and these he was compelled to surrender to 
the garrison. The battle was now hushed for a time ; 
and Shell, knowing that the enemy would not attempt to 
burn the house while their captain w^as in it, went into 
the second story, and began to sing the favorite hymn 
of Martin Luther, when surrounded with the perils he 
encountered in his controversy with the Pope." 

" That w^as cool," remarked Higgins. 

" Bravely cool," added old Harmar. 

" Oh, it was necessary to be cool and brave in those 
times," said Morton. " But to go on w^ith my story ; the 
respite w^as very short. The tories and Indians were ex- 
asperated at the successful resistance of the garrison, and 
rushed up to the block-house. Five of them thrust the 
muzzles of their pieces through the loop-holes ; but Mrs. 
Shell seized an axe, and, with well-directed blows, 
ruined every musket by bending the barrels. At the 
same time. Shell and his sons kept up a brisk fire, and 
drove the enemy off. About twilight, the old man went 
up stairs, and called out in a loud voice to his wife, that 
Captain Small was approaching from Fort Dayton, w^ith 



OF shell's block-house. 75 

succor. In a few minutes, he exclaimed, ^ Captain 
Small, march your company round on this side of the 
house. Captain Getman, you had better wheel your 
men off to the left, and come up on that side.' This, 
you see, was a stratagem. The enemy were deceived, 
took to their heels, and fled through the woods, leav- 
ing eleven men killed and six wounded. M'Donald 
was taken to Fort Dayton the next day, where his leg 
was amputated ; but the blood flowed so freely that he 
died in a few hours. On his person was found a silver- 
mounted tomahawk, which had thirty-two scalp notches 
on the handle, to show how he had imitated the savages." 

" But what became of the two sons who were cap- 
tured by the tories and Indians ?" inquired young Harmar. 

" They were carried to Canada," replied Morton. 
" They afterwards asserted that nine of the wounded 
tories died on the way. But some of the Indians were 
resolved to have revenge for their defeat, and they lurked 
in the woods near Shell's house. One day they found 
the wished-for opportunity, and fired upon Shell and his 
boys while they were at work in the field. One of the 
boys was killed, and Shell so badly wounded that he 
died soon after, at Fort Dayton," 

" Revenge seems a part of an Indian's nature," re- 
marked young Harmar. 

"Yes," said Higgins, " they will pursue one who has 
injured them in any way until he has paid for it." 

" Our people suffered much from them during the 
Revolution," added Higgins, " and they want no instruc- 
tion in regard to their character." 



STORY OF BATE'S REVENGE, 



" I RECOLLECT," Said old Harmar, " after our line 
went south, under General Wayne, just after the surren- 
der of Cornwallis, I met some of the men who had 
passed through Green's campaign. They were the 
bitterest kind of whigs — men who had seen their houses 
burnt over their heads, and who could have killed and 
eaten all the tories they should meet. They told me 
many wild stories of the black doings of those traitorous 
rascals." 

" Tell us one of them, won't you ?" entreated Mrs. 
Harmar. 

" Come, father, spin us one of those yarns, as the sail- 
ors say," added her husband. The children also became 
clamorous for ' a story,' and the old veteran was com- 
pelled to comply. 

" Well, you shall hear. A man named Joe Bates 
told me how he had been used by the enemy, and how 
he had been revenged. He joined the southern army 
when Greene first took command of it, leaving his wife 
and two children at his farm on the banks of the Santee 
River. His brother, John Bates, promised to take care 

(76) 



STORY OF bate's REVENGE. 77 

of the family and the farm. You see, John used to help 
Marion's band whenever he could spare the time — he 
was so anxious to do something for the good of his 
country, and he did n't know how else he could do it 
than by going off on an occasional expedition with 
Marion. Well, some how or other. Major Wemyss, the 
commander of the royalists in the neighborhood, got 
wind of John's freaks, and also of those of some other 
whig farmers, and he said he would put a stop to 
them. So he sent a detachment of about twenty-five 
men to burn the houses of the people who were suspected 
of being the friends of Marion. John Bates heard of 
their coming, and collected about ten or a dozen whigs 
to defend his house. He had n't time to send the wife 
of Joe and his children away to a safer place, or else he 
thought there was no better place. However it was, they 
remained there. The house was barred up, and every- 
thing fixed to give the red-coats a warm reception, 
should they attempt to carry out their intention. The 
time they chose for it was a moonlight night. The 
neighbors could see their houses burning from the upper 
windows of the one w^here they w^ere posted, and they 
kept muttering curses and threats of vengeance all the 
time." 

" Why did n't each man stay at home, and take care 
of his own house ?" enquired Mrs. Harmar. 

" Of what use would that have been ?" returned old 

Harmar. " By so doing, they could not have saved any 

house, and would have lost the chance of punishing the 

red-coats for their outrages. I forgot to tell you, though, 

7* 



78 STORY OF bates' REVENGE. 

that some of the farmers had brought their wives and 
children to Bates', and these were all put up-stairs out 
of the way. The little garrison had made loop-holes on 
all sides of the house, and each man had his rifle and 
knife ready to guard the post at which he was stationed. 
John Bates was the captain, because he knew most about 
such fightin' matters ; he learned it of Marion. Well, 
at last the garrison caught sight of the Britishers coming 
up steadily, the leader a little in advance. They did n't 
seem to suspect that any body was in the house, for they 
had found all the rest deserted. Still they thought it 
wise to be careful. They surrounded the house at their 
leader's command, and were getting their things ready 
to set fire to it, when the garrison, who had kept still as 
death all the time, blazed away at them from all sides. 
This staggered the whole party ; four or five of their 
number were shot dead, and as many more wounded. 
They rallied, however, and poured a volley into the 
house. The garrison, under John's command, returned 
the fire, and seemed to have decidedly the best of the 
matter. Joe's wife could n't content herself up-stairs 
with the women and children. She wanted to be of 
some use in defending her own house. She would come 
down and load the guns for John, while he kept a look- 
out on the movements of the British party. Well, she 
had just loaded the gun, and was handing it to John, 
when a bullet whizzed past him, struck her in the breast, 
and she fell dead. John Bates looked through the loop- 
hole, and caught sight of one of tte red-coats running 
back from the house, and fii-ed at him but missed. He 



STORY OF BATES* REVENGE. 79 

saw the man's face, though, and remembered it. John 
then bore the corpse up-stairs. The women and chil- 
dren shrieked at the sight, and thus discovered to the 
cowardly foe where they were placed. A volley was 
sent through the upper part of the house, which killed 
one of Joe's children and wounded the wife of a neigh- 
bor. But the enemy w^ere losing men too fast to continue 
the attack. I think Joe said they had lost half their 
party in killed and wounded, w^hile in the house only 
one man was wounded. The red-coats that were left 
began to move off, dragging some of their wounded with 
them. Then the farmers threw open the doors and 
wdndows, and, giving a shout of triumph, sent a volley 
after them that must have done some damage." 

" Did n't they start a pursuit .-*" inquired Higgins. 

" No : John thought his party was not strong enough, 
and that the glory of defeating such a party of regulars 
w^as enough for once. But several of the wounded red- 
coats w^ere taken. Some of the farmers wanted to kill 
them right off, but John would n't let them. He said 
there had been blood enough shed already, and set them 
at work to bury the dead. Soon after, John w^ent to the 
army, and told Joe of the attack, and of the death of 
his w^ife and child. Joe swore, by the most sacred oaths, 
to have revenge ; and made John describe the appear- 
ance of the man whom he had seen running away from 
the house after firing the shot that had killed Mrs. Bates. 
The man had peculiar features, and could not be mis- 
taken. 

"At the great Battle of Eutaw Springs, Joe was 



80 STORY OP bate's REVENGE. 

among the troops who charged with trailed arms. He 
came upon a man who answered the description given 
by John, and rushed upon him with such force that he 
pinned him to the ground with his bayonet, and he then 
drew a knife across his throat to make sure work of it. 
He told me that he stopped, amid a tremendous storm 
of grape and musketry, to take a look at the Britisher, 
and to be sure that he had no life in him.'' 

" What bloody creatures war can make men," remarked 
young Harmar. " That man was not sure he had killed 
the murderer of his wife." 

" It made no difference to him," replied old Harmar. 
" He hated the whole set, and he had no mercy on any 
of them. Joe Bates was a clever fellow — as warm a 
friend and as quiet a companion as you would wish to 
meet in time of peace ; but he hated like he loved — with 
all his heart, and would go through fire and death to get 
at a foe." 

" I believe Joe Bates' conduct was a fair specimen 
of that of the whole people of those parts, at that time," 
said Wilson. " I 've been told that the whigs and tories 
had no mercy on each other." 

"Not a bit," added old Harmar. "It seems to me 
that the fighting up here in the North was child's play 
in comparison with that in the South. Every man on 
the American side that went into the battle of Eutaw 
Springs, was so full of courage and the desire of revenge 
that he was equal to two common men. Greene had 
difficulty in restraining their ardor within the limits of 
prudence. I heard of Colonel Henry Lee and his le- 



STOET OF bate's REVENGE. 81 

gion coming up with a body of tories who were assem- 
bled to march to the British camp, and his men would 
slaughter them without mercy, in spite of his efforts to 
restrain them." 

" It was a bloody time," remarked Smith. 

" God grant that we may never see its like again," 
added Morton. 

" Up this way," said Wilson, *' the tories were quite 
peaceable and respectable ; and some of them were 
badly treated without any reason for it. They were 
honest men, and differed in opinion with those who 
judged the Declaration of Independence and the as- 
sumption of arms, necessary measures." 

" Yes," replied Higgins ; "its all very well for men 
to differ in opinion — nobody finds fault with that ; its 
taking up arms against their own countrymen, and op- 
posing their country's cause, that we grumble at. We 
should all adopt Commodore Decatur's motto ; ' Our 
country — right or wrong.' If she be right, our support 
cannot be refused ; if wrong, we should endeavor to set 
her right, and not, by refusing our support, or by taking 
up arms against her, see her fall." 

" Bravo !" cried Mr. Jackson Harmar. " There 's 
the true patriotic sentiment for you. Allow me, Mr. 
Higgins, to shake hands with you over that sentiment." 

The veteran patriot extended his hand, and received 
the hearty shake of the patriot of another generation. 



STOEY OF GENERAL WAYNE 



" Grandfather," said Thomas Jefferson Harmar, 
"wont you tell us something about Mad Anthony 
Wayne?" 

" Who learnt you to call him Mad Anthony Wayne ?" 
inquired Higgins. 

" That 's what grandfather calls him," replied the boy. 

"Yes," said old Harmar ; " we always called him Mad 
Anthony — he was such a dare-devil. I do n't believe, 
if that man, when alone, had been surrounded by foes, 
they could really have made him afraid." 

" He was a bold and skilful general," remarked Mor- 
ton. " He was equal to Arnold in those qualities, and 
superior to him in all others." 

" I think I can see him now, at Morristown, in the 
midst of the mutineers, wdth his cocked pistol in his 
hand, attempting to enforce orders — an action that 
no other man would have thought of doing under such 
circumstances." 

(82) 



STORY OF GENERAL WAYNE. 83 

"He did his duty," said Wilson; "but the men 
cannot be censured for their conduct. They had re- 
ceived no pay for many months, were without sufficient 
clothing to protect them from the weather, and some- 
times without food. If they had not been fighting for 
freedom and their country's rights, they never could have 
stood it out." 

" One of the best things Wayne ever did," said 
Smith, " was that manoeuvre of his in Virginia, where 
the British thought they had him surely in a net." 

" What manoeuvre was that?" inquired Mr. Jackson 
Harmar. 

" Why, you see. General Lafayette was endeavoring 
to avoid a general action with Cornwallis, and yet to 
harass him. Early in July, 1781, the British army 
marched from Williamsburg, and encamped on the banks 
of the James River, so as to cover a ford leading to the 
island of Jamestown. Soon after, the baggage and some 
of the troops passed the ford, but the main army kept 
its ground. Lafayette then moved from his encamp- 
ment, crossed the Chichahominy, pushed his light troops 
near the British position, and advanced with the conti- 
nentals to make" an attempt on the British rear, after the 
main body had passed the river. The next day, the 
Marquis was told that the main body of the British had 
crossed the ford, and that a rear-guard only remained 
behind. This was what the British general wanted him 
to believe, and he posted his troops ready to receive our 
men. Well, General Wayne, with eight hundred men, 
chiefly of the Pennsylvania line, (including Mr. Harmar, 



84 STORY OF GENERAL WAYNE. 

Mr. Higgins, Mr. Wilson, and myself,) was ordered to 
advance against the enemy. Now, Wayne thought he 
had to fight a rear-guard only, and so he moved forward 
boldly and rapidly ; but, in a short time, he found him- 
self directly in front of the whole British army, drawn 
up to receive him. Retreat was impracticable, as the 
enemy then might have had a fair chance to kill or cap- 
ture the whole detachment. Wayne thought that the 
best plan was to put on a bold face, and so he com- 
menced the attack at once. A fierce and bloody struggle 
followed, and I 'm not sure but we were gaining the ad- 
vantage, when General Lafayette discovered the mistake 
and ordered a retreat, and we were compelled to fall 
back, leaving two cannon in the hands of the enemy. 
By General Wayne's presence of mind and courage, 
you see, w^e got off with but the loss of one hundred 
men. The British lost the same number." 

" The Marquis was, of course, right in ordering a 
retreat," remarked young Harmar. 

"I suppose so," replied Smith. " Our detachment 
might have made considerable havoc among the British, 
and, perhaps, if promptly supported, have maintained a 
long and doubtful battle. But General Lafayette wanted 
to save his men until a more certain contest could be 
brought about. He w^as a very young general — younger 
than Napoleon when he took command of the army of 
Italy ; but all his movements about that time indicated 
that he was as skilful and vigilant as he was brave." 

" Americans should ever be grateful to the memory 
of such a man as Lafayette," said old Harmar. " He 



STORY OF GENERAL WAYNE. 85 

was a true lover of liberty, and a staunch friend to this 
land when it most needed friends." 

" And that reminds me," added young Harmar, " that 
I 've a song here, which I wrote for one of the papers, 
in relation to Lafayette. It is arranged in the measure 
of the feeling melody of ' Auld Lang Syne.' " 

" Sing it," said Mr. Smith ; and the request was 
echoed by the rest. Mr. Jackson Harmar, therefore, 
after sundry excuses in the usual routine — that he had a 
cold, &c. — sang the following words in a very emphatic 
manner, with an occasional break in the high notes, and 
huskiness in the low ones. 



Should auld acquaintance be forgot 

And never brought to mind ? 
The friend that 's true, remember'd not, 

And days of auld lang syne ? 
For auld lang syne, my dear, 

We never can forget; 
When dangers press'd, and foes drew near, 

Our friend was Lafayette. 

When first our fathers bravely drew 
'Gainst tyrants and their laws, 

On wings of generous zeal he flew 
To aid the holy cause. 

For auld lang syne, my dear, &c. 

He stemm'd the broad Atlantic wave; 

He vow'd they should be free ; 
He led the bravest of the brave 

To death or victory. 

For auld lang syne, my dear, &c. 



86 STORY OF GENERAL WAYNE. 

Let Brandywine his glory tell, 

And Monmouth loud proclaim ; 
Let York in triumph proudly swell 

The measure of his fame. 

For auld lang syne, my dear, &c. 

Shall sons of freedom e'er forget, 

Till time shall cease to move. 
The debt they owe to Lafayette 

Of gratitude and love? 

For auld lang syne, my dear, &c. 

The song was listened to with considerable pleasure 
by the company, and there was an occasional attempt, 
on the part of the veterans, to join in the chorus, which, 
however, ended in a slight cough and shaking of the 
head, as if the attempt was hopeless. 

"There's good sentiment in that song," remarked 
Smith. " It stirs the heart." 

" Mr. Harmar, did you say the piece was your own 
composition ?" inquired Morton. 

" It is one of my humble efforts," modestly replied 
Mr. Jackson Harmar. 

" I 'm very glad there are some young men left who can 
write something else besides the love trash that's so 
popular," said Mr. Higgins. Old men generally have a 
strong aversion or lofty contempt for everything relating 
to the love matters of youth. 

" Everything has its time," was the sage remark of 
Mr. Jackson Harmar ; "or, in the more popular phrase 
of Mr. Shakspeare, ' Every dog will have his day !' " 

" I should like to see patriotic songs more popular," 
remarked Morton ; and it is highly probable the conver- 



STORY OP GENERAL WAYNE. 87 

sation would have continued on this subject, but Mrs. 
Harmar and the children kept up a constant clamor for 
more stories, and old Harmar consented to amuse them 
and the rest of the company with a story which, he said, 
he had seen in several papers, and told in several differ- 
ent ways, none of which were correct. The true circum- 
stances he would then relate in order that his son might 
make a story of it for his forthcoming work, — " Legends 
of the Times that tried Men's Souls." 



STORY 



OF THE 



OUTLAW OF THE PINES, 



" In the fall and winter of 1776," began Mr. Harmar, 
" the people of New Jersey experienced their full share 
of the miseries of civil war. During no period of the 
Revolutionary contest did the enemy's troops act more 
cruelly or more unlike civilized men. As they marched 
through the Jerseys, driving our poor ' rebel ' army be- 
fore them, they committed all kinds of outrages on help- 
less women and old men ; but this conduct was destined 
to recoil upon the heads of the foe. The people were 
roused to resist the invaders, and the militia was organ- 
ised throughout the State — silently but surely. Our 
victories at Trenton and Princeton were received as the 
signals for action. As the enemy retired on Brunswick, 
they were followed by the exasperated farmers, and 
harassed terribly. But, at the time when my story 
commences, the red-coats were in quiet possession of 
New Jersey, from Burhngton to New York. General 
Washington had come over on this side of the Delaware. 

(88) 



THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 89 

" It was late in December. The weather was bitter 
cold, and the enemy seldom stirred from their quarters 
to visit the interior of the State. This respite would 
have been refreshing to the harassed farmer, if the with- 
drawal of the regular troops had not left free play for 
the more desperate servants of King George, or others 
who pretended to be such. One of these pretenders 
was named Fagan. He was the leader of about twenty 
ruffians as free from any particle of human feeling as him- 
self. There was no romance about the black character 
of Fagan ; he was a perfect wretch ; he robbed for gain, 
and murdered to conceal the robbery. The hiding-place 
of the band was in the pine barrens of New Jersey, and 
they thence received the name of * the pine robbers ' from 
the people of the country. Their violence and cruelty 
towards women and even children had made them the 
terror of all classes. The whigs charged their doings on 
the tories and refugees ; but the robbers were against 
both parties. They plundered a tory in the name of the 
continentals, and were true to the Crown when a whig 
chanced to be in their power. 

" Well, I 'm going to tell you about one of their ex- 
ploits. Not many miles from Trenton, on the road to 
Bordentown, was the farm-house of Nathaniel Collins, a 
Quaker, but who was not strict enough for his sect. He 
was disowned by them on account of encouraging his 
two sons to join the continental army, and for showing 
a disposition to do the same himself. He was about 
sixty years old at the time of which I speak, but still a 
large, powerful man, with the glow of health on his 
8* 



90 THE OUTLAW OP THE PINES. 

cheek and intelligence in his eye. Though disowned 
by the Quaker sect, Nathaniel Collins retained their 
dress, manners, and habits, and always defended them 
from the attacks of their enemies. 

" One night, the old Quaker, his wife Hannah, cousin 
Rachel, and daughter Amy, were sitting up till a very 
late hour. They expected Nathan's sons home from the 
Continental army. These sons had chosen the night to 
cross the river, to avoid the notice of the Hessians at 
Trenton. Well, the family waited till the clock struck 
one, but the sons did not appear, and Nathan was getting 
impatient. At last footsteps were heard on the road. 

" ' There they are at last !' eagerly exclaimed Amy. 

" ' Let me see,' said Nathan, as, with the placid man- 
ner characteristic of a Friend, he moved to a window 
which commanded a view of the kitchen door, at which 
a knocking had commenced. He could distinguish six 
men, armed and equipped like militia, and another, 
whose pinioned arms proclaimed him a prisoner. His 
sons were not of the party ; and as the persons of the 
strangers were unknown, and the guise of a militia-man 
was often assumed by Fagan, our friend w^as not ' easy in 
his mind how to act.' His first idea was to feign deafness ; 
but a second knock, loud enough to wake all but the 
dead, changed his intention — he raised the window and 
hailed the men : 

" ' Friends, w^hat 's your will ?' 

' A little refreshment of fire and food, if you please ; 
we have been far on duty, and are half frozen and quite 
starved.' 



THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 91 

* We do n't entertain them who go to war.' ^ 

* Yes ; but you will not refuse a little refreshment to 
poor fellows like us, this cold night ; that would be as 
much against the principles of your society as war.' 

' Thee 's from Trenton ?' 

' No, I thank you ; Nathaniel Collins is too well 
known as a friend to the country, and an honest man, to 
aid a refugee — we know that.' 

' Soap the old fox well,' whispered one of the band. 

* Come, friend, make haste and let us in, we are al- 
most perished, and have far to go before sunrise, or we 
may change places with our prisoner here before sunset." 

' But what does the party here, this side of the river, 
right under the Hessians' nose, if — ' 

' Oh, we are minute-men, sent from within by Cap- 
tain Smallcross, to seize this deserter — do n't you mean 
to let us in ?' 

" Nathaniel closed the window and said, ' I do n't 
know what to make of these men. Amy, call the boys ; 
tell them to make haste and bring their guns, but keep 
them out of sight, where they will be handy.' 

"As the command was obeyed, and the three young 
men, laborers on the farm, appeared and placed their 
guns behind the inner, their master unbolted the outer 
door and admitted five of the armed men — the prisoner 
and one of his captors remaining without. Nathaniel 
thought this unnecessary of so cold a night, and a little 
sUvSpicious — ' Will not thy companions enter also ?' 

" ' No, thank you ; he guards the prisoner.' 

' But why may not the prisoner, too ?' 



92 THE OUTLAW OP THE PINES. 

* Pshaw ! he 's nothing but a deserter. The cold will 
be good for Am.' 

" ^ I must say,' quoth Nathan, ' exercised,' as he after- 
wards owned, past endurance, ' thy conduct neither be- 
comes thy nature as a man, or thy calling, which should 
teach thee more feeling — I '11 take the poor fellow some- 
thing to eat myself.' 

" The old man had reached the door on his merciful 
errand, meaning, it is true, to satisfy his curiosity at the 
same time, when he who had acted as leader of the 
party sprang from his chair, and, placing his hand on his 
host's breast, pushed him rudely back. ' Stand back — 
back, I say, and mind your own business, if you are a 
Quaker.' 

" There was a momentary struggle in Nathan's mind, 
whether to knock the fellow down, as from appearances 
he easily might, or to yield, in obedience to his prin- 
ciples. ' It was strongly on his mind,' he confessed, to 
pursue the former course, but prudence conquered, and 
he quietly withdrew to the upper end of the apartment, 
where his men lounged on a bench, apparently half 
asleep, and indistinctly visible in the light of the fire and 
one small candle, which burned near the strangers. In 
the interim, the old cook had been summoned, and had 
arranged some cold provisions on the table. ^ Old 
Annie,' the cook, was the child of Indian and mulatto 
parents, but possessed none of the features of her darker 
relation, except a capacious mouth and Hps to match. 
She refused to associate with either negroes or Indians, 
considering herself as belonging to neither, and indulg- 



THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 93 

ing a sovereign contempt for both. Her favorite term 
of reproach was ^ Injin ' and ' nigger,' and when they 
failed separately to express her feehngs, she put the two 
together, a compliment always paid the Hessians, when 
she had occasion to mention them. A party of these 
marauders had, on a visit to her master's house, stolen 
her fall's store of sausages ; thenceforth she vowed eter- 
nal hatred to the race — a vow she never forgot to the 
day of her death. 

" The strangers ate their repast, showing anything but 
confidence in their entertainer, and ate, each man with 
his gun resting on his shoulder. During the whole meal, 
he who called himself their captain was uneasy and rest- 
less. For some time, he appeared to be engaged in a 
very close scrutiny of the household, who occupied the 
other end of the kitchen — a scrutiny which, owing to the 
darkness, could not yield him much satisfaction. He 
then whispered anxiously and angrily with his men, who 
answered in a dogged, obstinate fashion, that evidently 
displeased him ; till, finally, rising from his seat, he bade 
them follow, and scarcely taking time to thank Nathan 
for his food and fire, passed out of the door and made 
from the house. 

"'Well, now, that beats me!' said Elnathan, as he 
and his comrades looked at each other in astonishment 
at the abrupt departure and singular conduct of their 
guests. 

" ' That are a queer lark, any how !' responded John ; 
* it beats all natur'.' 

" ' The Injins,' said Ann. * If that is not Fagan or 



94 _ THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 

some of his gang, never trust me ! — why did you not 
give them a shot, the 'tarnal thieves ?' 

" But our household troop were too glad to get rid 
of their visitors to interrupt their retreat. The house 
was secured again, the men had thrown themselves down, 
and some of them were already asleep, when another 
knock at the same door brought them as one man to 
their feet. On opening the door, a laborer attached to 
a neighboring farm presented himself, breathless from 
haste, and almost dead with fear. When he so far re- 
covered his speech as to be able to tell his story, he 
proved to be the man whom the pretended militia-men 
had brought with them as a prisoner, and his captors 
were found to be no less than Fagan and a portion of 
his band. They had that night robbed five different 
houses before they attempted our Friend's. Aware that 
his sons were from home, they expected to find the old 
man unsupported, but having gained admission into the 
house, they were surprised at the appearance of three 
additional men. Fagan, however, was bent upon com- 
pleting his enterprise in spite of all opposition ; but his 
followers obstinately refused. At the foot of the avenue 
a bitter quarrel ensued, Fagan taxing his men with cow- 
ardice ; but the fear of pursuit silenced them at length. 
The next question was, how to dispose of their prisoner, 
whom they had seized in one of their ^ affairs,' and, for 
want of some means of securing him, brought with 
them. Fagan, as the shortest way, proposed, as he had 
before, to cut his throat ; but the proposal was overruled 
as unnecessary. He was unbound, and, upon his 



THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 95 

solemn promise to return without giving the alarm, one 
of the band returned him his silver and a little money 
they had abstracted from his chest. In consideration 
whereof he made to the nearest house and gave the 
alarm, impelled by instinct more than anything else. 

" Suddenly, the man's narrative was interrupted by 
an explosion of fire-arms, which broke upon the clear, 
frosty night, and startled even Nathan. Another and 
another followed before a word was uttered. 

" ' What can that be? It must be at Trenton.' 

" ^ By jingo,' exclaimed Elnathan, forgetting, in his 
excitement, that his master was present, ' if I do n't be- 
lieve our men ain't giving the Hessians a salute this 
morning with ball catridges — there it goes again! — I 
say, John, it 's a piert scrimmage.' 

"In his own anxiety, Nathan forgot to correct his 
servant's profanity. 'It must be — but how they got 
over through the ice without wings — ' 

" ' No matter 'zackly how, marster, it 's them. I '11 
warrant them 's hard plums for a Christmas pudding. 
Ha ! ha ! they get it this morning, — them tarnation Hes- 
sian niggers!' 

" ' Ann, thee '11 never forgive the Hessians thy sau- 
sages and pork.' 

" ' Forgive — not I. All my nice sausages and buck- 
wheat cakes, ready buttered — and all for them 'are 
yaller varments.' 

" The firing having continued some minutes, though 
less in volleys than at first, gradually ceased, and all 
was quiet, as if nothing had happened to disturb the 



96 THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 

deathlike stillness of the night. Yet, in that brief half 
hour, the fate of a continent was decided — the almost des- 
perate cause of the colonies had been retrieved. The 
victory of Trenton had been achieved. 

" The attention of Nathan was diverted, by this first 
incident, from the other events of the night, but was soon 
recalled to the pursuit of the robbers, and the relief of 
their victims, w^ho, from their late prisoner's account, 
had been left in an unpleasant condition. His men 
being despatched to collect aid, Nathan now remained 
with old Anne ; the sole efficient defender of the house. 
He was not doomed to wait their return undisturbed — 
the indistinct sound, as of many feet, was heard advanc- 
ing along the road to Bordentown. 

" ' It 's them Hessians,' said Anne. But Nathan 
thought not — it was not the tread of regular troops, but 
the confused rush of a multitude. He hastened to an 
upper window to reconnoitre. The day had begun to 
break, and he easily distinguished a large body of men 
in Hessian uniform, hurrying along the road in broken 
ranks. As they came nearer, he perceived many indi- 
viduals half clad and imperfectly equipped. The whole 
consisted of about six hundred men. Before their rear 
w^as lost behind a turn in the road another body appeared 
in rapid pursuit. They marched in closer order and 
more regular array. In the stillness of the morning the 
voice of an officer could be distinctly heard urging on 
the men. They bore the well-known standard of the 
colonies. It all flashed on Nathan's mind — Washington 
had crossed the river, and was in pursuit of the routed 



THE OUTLAAY OF THE PINES. 97 

foe. The excited old man forgot his years, as he almost 
sprang down stairs to the open air, proclaiming the tid- 
ings as he went. Even the correct Hannah, who had 
preserved her faith unbroken, in spite of her husband's 
and sons' contumacy, and the, if possible, still more 
particular Rachel, were startled from their usual compo- 
sure, and gave vent to their joy. 

" ' Well, now, does thee say so ?' said the latter, 
eagerly following the others to the door. * I hope it is 
not unfriendly to rejoice for such a cause.' 

" * I hope not, cousin Rachel,' said Amy ; ' nor to be 
proud that our boys had a share in the glorious deed.' 

" Amy was left to herself, and broke loose upon this 
occasion from the bonds of Quaker propriety ; but no 
one observed the transgression — except old Anne. 

'* '• That 's right. Amy Collins ; I like to hear you say 
so. How them Hessians can run — the 'tarnal niggers ; 
they steal sausages better than they stand bullets. I told 
'em it would be so, when they was here beguzzlen my 
buckw^heat cakes, in plain English ; only the outlandish 
Injins could n't understand their mother tongue. They 're 
got enough swallowen without chawen, this morning. 
I wish them nothen but Jineral Maxwell at their tails, 
tickling 'em with continental bagonets.' 

" ' That friend speaks my mind,' said Elnathan, with 
a half-sanctimonious, half-waggish look, and slight nasal 
twang. 

" ' Mine too,' as devoutly responded a companion, 
whom he had just brought to assist in the pursuit of the 
robbers. 
9 



98 THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 

*^The whole family had assembled at the door to 
watch the motions of the troops. The front ranks had 
already passed down the road, when a horseman, at full 
speed, galloped along the line of march to the extreme 
right, and commanded a halt. After a few minutes de- 
lay, two or three officers, followed by a party carrying a 
wounded man, emerged from the ranks and approached 
the house. This was too much for the composure of our 
late overjoyed family ; all hastened to meet their wounded 
or dead relation, but were disappointed agreeably — the 
brothers were indeed of the party, but unhurt. 

" ' Charles — boys — w^hat means — ' 

* Nothing, father, except that we paid the Hessians a 
friendly visit this morning. You saw them ?' 

* A part — w^here are the rest?' 

' Oh, we could not consent to turn them out of their 
comfortable quarters this cold night, so we insisted on 
their remaining, having first gone through the trifling 
ceremony of grounding their arms.' 

" The greeting between the young soldiers and their 
more peaceful relations could not have been more cordial 
if their hands had been unstained with blood. Nathaniel 
proffered refreshments to the whole detachment ; old 
Anne trembled for her diminished stock of sausages, and 
remarked to Elnathan, that it would take a ^ 'tarnal grid- 
dle ' to bake cakes for ' all that posse cotatus.' But the 
offer w^as declined by the officer in command, who only 
desired our friends to take charge of the wounded Hes- 
sian, whom his own men had deserted in the road. 

" In the meanwhile, about forty men had assembled 
at Nathan's summons to pursue the robbers, some of 



THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 99 

them having first visited those who had suffered trom the 
previous night's depredations. In one instance, they 
found a farmer tied in his own stable, with his horse 
gear ; and his wife, with the bed-cord, to some of the 
furniture in her own apartment. In another place, the 
whole household was quietly disposed down a shallow 
well, up to their knees in water, and half frozen. In a 
third, a solitary man, who was the only inmate at the 
time, having fled, in his fright, to the house-top, was left 
there by the unfeeling thieves, who secured the trap- 
door within. But the last party who arrived had a 
bloody tale to tell : they had been to the house of Joseph 
Farr, the sexton to a neighboring Baptist church ; a 
reputation for the possession of concealed gold proved 
fatal to him. On entering his house, the door of which 
stood open, the party sent to his relief stumbled over 
his body. After having most cruell}/ beaten him, in the 
hope of extorting the gold he was said to possess, the 
murderers, upon his positive denial, pierced him in 
twenty places' with their bayonets. The old bedridden 
wife was still alive in her bed, though the blood had 
soaked through the miserable pallet and run in a stream 
into the fire-place. Their daughter, a woman of fifty 
years, fled from the house as the murderers entered, and 
was pursued by one of them, nearly overtaken, and even 
wounded in the arm by his bayonet ; but his foot slipped 
in making the thrust, and she escaped slightly hurt. 

" This bloody business aroused the whole country ; a 
persevering and active pursuit was commenced. The 
murderers had many miles to traverse before they could 



100 THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 

reach a safe retreat, and were obliged to lighten them- 
selves of their heavier plunder in the chase. Four were 
shot down in the pursuit ; the knapsack of a fifth was 
found partly concealed in a thicket, and pierced with a 
ball, which had also penetrated a large mass of conti- 
nental money in sheets, and, by the blood on the inner 
covering, had done good service on the wearer. It was 
believed that he contrived to conceal himself in a thicket, 
and died there ; as he was never heard of after. Fagan 
alone escaped unhurt to the pines, and for days defied 
all the exertions of the whig farmers. By this time, the 
pursuing party had increased to nearly two hundred 
men. The part of the wood in which he w^as known to 
be concealed, was surrounded and fired, till the wretch 
was literally burnt from his den, and, in an attempt to 
escape from one flaming thicket to another, taken alive, 
although not unw^ounded. One of the gang, who had 
not participated in the deeds I have mentioned, was se- 
cured at the same time. 

" There appeared to be no difference of opinion about 
the mode of disposing of the prisoners — indeed, an 
opinion w^as scarcely asked or given. It seemed taken 
for granted — a thing of course; and the culprits were 
led in silence to the selected place of execution. There 
was neither judge nor jury — no delay — no prayer for 
mercy ; a large oak then stood at the forks of two roads, 
one of which leads to Freehold ; from the body of the 
tree a horizontal branch extended over the latter road, to 
which two ropes w^ere attached. One of them having 
been fixed to the minor villain's neck, his sufferings w^ere 



THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 101 

soon over ; but a horrible and lingering death was re- 
served for Fagan. The iron hoops were taken off a 
meat cask, and by a blacksmith in the company fitted 
round his ancles, knees, and arms, pinioning the latter 
to his body, so that, excepting his head, which was ' left 
free to enjoy the prospect,' he could not move a muscle. 
In this condition he hung for days beside his stiffened 
companion; dying by inches of famine and cold, which 
had moderated so as, without ending, to aggravate his 
misery. Before he died, he had gnawed his shoulder 
from very hunger. On the fifth night, as it approached 
twelve o'clock, having been motionless for hours, his 
guards beUeved him to be dead, and, tired of their 
horrid duty, proposed to return home. In order, how- 
ever, to be sure, they sent one of the party up the ladder 
to feel if his heart still beat. He had ascended into the 
tree, when a shriek, unlike anything human, broke upon 
the stillness of the night, and echoed from the neighbor- 
ing wood with redoubled power. The poor fellow 
dropped from the tree like a dead man, and his com- 
panions fled in terror from the spot. When day encou- 
raged them to return, their victim was swinging stiffly in 
the north wind — now lifeless as the companion of his 
crime and its punishment. It is believed, to this day, 
that no mortal power, operating upon the lungs of the 
dead murderer, produced that awful, unearthly, and 
startling scream ; but that it was the voice of the Evil 
One, warning the intrusive guard not to disturb the fiend 
in the possession of his lawful victim ; a belief materially 
strengthened by a fact that could not be disputed — the 
9* 



102 THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 

limb upon which the robbers hung, after suffering double 
pollution from them and their master's touch, never 
budded again ; it died from that hour ; the poison gra- 
dually communicated to the remaining branches, till, 
from a flourishing tree, it became a sapless and blasted 
trunk, and so stood for years, at once an emblem and a 
monument of the murderers' fate. 

"Faganwas never buried; his body hung upon its 
gibbet till the winds picked the flesh from off" his bones, 
and they fell asunder by their own weight. A friend of 
mine has seen his horrid countenance, as it hung fester- 
ing and blackening in the wind, and remembers, by way 
of amusement, between schools, pelting the body with 
stones. The old trunk has disappeared, but the spot is 
still haunted in the belief of the people of the neighbor- 
hood, and he is a bold man who dare risk a nocturnal 
encounter with the bloody Fagan, instead of avoiding 
the direct road, at the expense of half a mile's additional 
walk. No persuasion or force will induce a horse raised 
in the neighborhood to pass the fated spot at nighty al- 
though he will express no uneasiness by daylight. The 
inference is, that the animals, as we know animals do, 
and Balaam's certainly did, see more than their masters. 
A sceptical gentleman, near, thinks this only the force 
of habit, and that the innocent creatures have been 
so taught by the cowards who drive them, and w^ould 
saddle the horses with their own folly. 

" I am at the close of my story, and not a lover or a 
tender scene in the whole tedious relation — alas ! w^hat 
a defect, but it is too late to mind it now ; it only re- 



THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 103 

mains to take leave of our friends. Nathan and Hannah 
have mingled with dust, and their spirits with that society 
whose only business is love, and where sighing and 
contention can never intrude. Nathan was permitted, 
on his expressing his sorrow that he had ' disobliged 
Friends,' to rejoin his society, and he died an elder. 
Rachel departed at a great age, as she had lived, a spot- 
less maiden. The blooming, the warm-hearted, mis- 
chievous Amy lives, a still comely old lady, the mother 
of ten sons, and the grandparent of three times as many 
more. She adheres strictly to all the rules of her society, 
and bears her testimony in the capacity of a public 
Friend. Still, she is evidently not a little proud of her 
father's and brothers' share in the perils and honors of 
the revolutionary contest, though she affects to condemn 
their contumacy and unfriendly conformity to the world's 
ways, and their violation of ' Friends' testimony concern- 
ing war.' Old Annie died four years since, at an almost 
incredible age, though she was not able to name the 
exact number of the days of her pilgrimage. From the 
deep furrows on her cheeks, and the strong lines of her 
naturally striking countenance, which, as she advanced 
in years, assumed more and more the character of her 
Indian parentage, and the leather-like appearance of her 
skin, she might have passed for an antediluvian. While 
other less important matters lost their impression on her 
memory, the Hessian inroads upon her sausages and buck- 
wheat cakes were neither forgotten nor entirely forgiven to 
the last. She sent for a friend when on her death-bed, to 
make arrangement of her little affairs. He found her 



104 THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 

strength of body exhausted, but her powers of mind unim- 
paired. After disposing her stock of personaUties among 
some of her friends, she turned to him. ^ That 's all, Mr. 
Charles, except the old sash you used to play with, 
which I sp'iled from the Hessian officer, the Injin — keep 
that to mind old Anne by.' 

" ' Thank you, Anne — I '11 keep it carefully. But 
you must not bear malice now^ Anne ; you must forgive 
even the Hessians,' said Charles. 

" ' What, them Hessians, the bloody thieves ?' and the 
old woman's eyes lighted up, and she almost arose in 
her bed with astonishment, as she asked the question. 

^ Yes ; even them : you are about to need forgiveness 
as much as they — they were your enemies and persecu- 
tors, whom you are especially enjoined to pardon, as you 
would expect to be pardoned.' 

* So it is, Mr. Charles ; you say the truth, — poor igno- 
rant, sinful mortal that I am ! Well, then, I do — I hope 
I do — forgive 'em ; I '11 try — the bloody creeters.^ 

" There ; will that do for a story, Thomas Jefferson .^" 
asked the old grandfather, when he had concluded. 
The old man had a straight-forward, natural way of tell- 
ing a story that showed he had practised it frequently. 
The boy seemed much gratified by the horrible narration. 
Mrs. Harmar said she was interested, but did n't like it 
much ; her husband remarked, however, that it would 
make a thrilling sketch. 

" I suppose that Nathaniel Collins was very much the 
same sort of a Quaker as General Green," said Morton. 
** They were peaceable men, as long as peace and quiet 



THE OUTLAW OF THE PINES. 105 

were not inconsistent with self-defence. To be peace- 
able when a foe is wasting your fields and slaughtering 
your brethren, is cowardly and against nature." 

" That 's truth," replied Higgins. " We must look 
upon a merciless invader in the same light as upon a 
cruel beast, whom it is saving life to slay." 

" Fagan was well punished for his outrages," re- 
marked Wilson. 

"It was the only way for the inhabitants to ensure 
their safety," said Smith. 



THE TORY'S CONVERSION. 



"By the bye," said Mr. Morton, "some events have 
just recurred to my mind, which interested me very 
much when I first heard of them, and which I think may 
strike you as being w-onderful. I knew of many strange 
and unaccountable things that happened during the 
Revolution, but the conversion of Gil Lester from tory- 
ism capped the climax." 

" Enlighten us upon the subject, by all means," re- 
marked Mr. Jackson Harmar. 

" Yes, that was a strange affair, Morton ; tell 'em 
about it," added Higgins. 

" There 's a little love stuff mixed up w^ith the story," 
said Morton, " but you will have to excuse that. I ob- 
tained the incidents from Lester himself, and I know he 
was always true to his word, w^hether that was right or 
WTong. Gilbert Lester, Vincent Murray, and their ladye- 
loves, lived up here in Pennsylvania, in the neighbor- 
hood of the Lehigh. One night a harvest ball was 
given at the house of farmer Williams. Vincent Mur- 

(106) 



THE TORY'S CONVEESION. 107 

ray and Mary Williams, the farmer's daughter, joined in 
the festivities, and, becoming tired of dancing in a hot 
room, they went out to walk along the banks of the 
Lehigh, and, of course, to talk over love matters. 

" They had seated themselves on a fallen tree, and 
continued for a few moments to gaze in the mirrored 
Lehigh, as if their very thoughts might be reflected on 
its glassy surface. Visions of war and bloodshed were 
passing before the fancy of the excited girl, and she 
breathed an inward prayer to heaven to protect her lover ; 
when, casting her eyes upward, she suddenly exclaimed 
with startling energy : 

" ' Vincent, look at the sky !' Murray raised his 
head, and sprang instantly on his feet. ' Tell me,' con- 
tinued Mary, * am I dreaming, or am I mad ! or do I 
actually see armies marching through the clouds ?' 

'^ Murray gazed steadfastly for a moment, and then 
exclaimed, ' It is the British, Mary — I see the red coats 
as plainly as I see you.' 

" The young girl seemed transfixed to the spot, without 
the power of moving. ' Look there,' said she, pointing 
her finger upward — ' there are horses, with officers on 
them, and a whole regiment of dragoons ! Oh, are you 
not frightened?' 

" 'No,' replied her companion — but before he had 
time to proceed, she again exclaimed : 

' There, there, Vincent ! See the colors flying, and 
the drums, and trumpets, and cannon, I can almost hear 
them ! What can it mean ?' 

' Do n't be so terrified, Mary. It is my belief, that 
what we see is an intimation from God of the approach- 



108 THE TORY'S CONVERSION. 

ing war. The ^ Lord of Hosts ' has set his sign in the 
heavens. But come, let us run to the house. This is 
no time to dance — and they will not believe us, unless 
their own eyes behold the vision!' 

" Before he had finished speaking, they were hastily 
retracing their steps to the scene of merriment ; and in 
another moment the sound of the violin was hushed, and 
the feet of the dancers were still. With one accord, 
they all stood in the open air, and gazed with straining 
glances at the pageant in the heavens ; and marked it with 
awe and wonder. A broad streak of light spread itself 
gradually over the sky, till the whole wide expanse was 
in one brilliant blaze of splendor. The clouds, decked 
in the richest and most gorgeous colors, presented a 
spectacle of grandeur and glory, as they continued to 
shape themselves into various forms of men, and horses, 
and armor, till a warlike and supernatural host was dis- 
tinctly presented to the view. The dragoons, on their 
prancing horses ; the riflemen and artillery, with their 
military ensigns and accoutrements ; the infantry, and 
even the baggage-wagons in the rear, were all there to 
complete the imposing array. It is no fiction ; many 
were eye-witnesses of that remarkable vision, which 
passed on from the east, and disappeared in the west — 
and, from that evening, the sound of the violin was 
heard no more in those places, until the end of the Revo- 
lution. 

" Mary Tracy hung upon the arm of her lover, and 
hstened anxiously to his words, as he spoke to her in a 
low but decided tone." 



THE TORY'S CONVERSION. 109 

" That 's very strange ; but you have not told us how 
the young tory was converted," interrupted Mrs. Harmar. 

" I am coming to that," replied Morton. " Vincent 
Murray and Mary Wilhams conversed together for some 
time. He told her he was going to leave his friends and 
join the American army. He said he thought the signs 
in the clouds were warning to all the friends of liberty 
to rush to the aid of our little struggling band ; and that 
he intended to go to New York, and then seek out the 
best plan for enlistment. Before he bade his sweet- 
heart farewell, he also told her he was resolved to do his 
best to convert Gilbert Lester from his tory principles. 
Now this was no easy task, as the two young men had 
often argued the question of rights, and Lester had 
shown that he was as firmly fixed to his creed as Murray 
was to his. Mary told him that she thought that the 
frowns or the smiles of Jane Hatfield alone could change 
his way of thinking. But, nevertheless, Murray re- 
solved to try what he could do. 

" The little group of dancers were all scattered in 
different directions. Murray sought among the number 
for Gilbert Lester, and found him, at length, leaning in 
a thoughtful attitude against the trunk of a huge syca- 
more tree, whose broad shadow fell upon the waters of 
the Lehigh. So profound was his reverie, that Murray 
touched his arm before he stirred from his position, or 
was aware of approaching footsteps. 

" ' Gilbert, shall I divine your thoughts ?' 

" ' You, perhaps, think you could do so, but I doubt 
whether you would guess right.' 
10 



110 THE TOEY'S CONVEESION. 

" ' Why, there can be but one subject, I should sup- 
pose, which could occupy the mind of any one who has 
seen what we have seen this evening.' 

" ^ True ; but there may be different interpretations put 
upon what is equally a mystery to us all.' 

" 'Well, I will not dispute that point with you, — but 
there is a right and a wrong, notwithstanding. Now, 
tell me, w^hat is your opinion ?' 

" ' It will hardly coincide with yours, Vincent ; for I 
fear we shall never agree in our ideas of the propriety 
and expediency of taking up arms against our sovereign. 
As to this pantomime of the clouds, I must confess it is 
beyond my comprehension ; so, if your understanding 
has been enlightened by the exhibition, I beg you will 
have charity to extend the benefit.' 

" ' You are always for ridiculing my impressions, Gil- 
bert ; but you cannot change my belief that our cause is 
a rightful one, and that it will, wdth the help of the Al- 
mighty, ultimately prevail.' 

" ' What, against such a host as we have just seen 
imaged out in the sky?' 

" * The Lord's hand is not shortened, that it cannot 
save,' replied Murray. 

" ' But,' continued his friend, ' if a real army, coming 
over the sea to do battle for the king, has been repre- 
sented by that ghostly multitude which passed before 
our view, you will find the number too strong for this 
fanciful faith of yours, in the help of an invisible arm.' 

" ' It is a faith, however, which I am not yet disposed to 
yield, — ' the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the 
strons:.' ' 



THE Tory's conversion. Ill 

" ' I will acknowledge,' said Lester, interrupting him, 

* that you have the advantage of me in quoting Scrip- 
ture — but depend upon it, the practical advantages of 
the British over the rebel army will soon overturn your 
theory.' 

" ' No such thing, Gilbert. I tell you that the zeal, 
fortitude, undaunted courage, and invincible resolution, 
which encompass our little band of patriots, will prove 
a shield of strength that will make every single man of 
them equal to at least a dozen British soldiers. And 
having once risen up in defence of their rights, they will 
persevere to the last extremity before they will submit to 
the disgraceful terms of a despotic government. It 
grieves me that you should be among the tories. Come, 
I entreat you, and share in the glory of the triumph 
which I am persuaded will eventually be ours.' 

" ' Then you really do believe, Murray, that God will 
work a modern miracle in favor of America ! My dear 
friend, I wish you would abandon this vain chimera of 
your imagination, and let common sense and reason 
convince you of the folly of this mad rebellion.' 

" ' And what then ? Should I sit down in cowardly 
inaction, while others are sacrificing their lives in the 
struggle? No — that shall never be said of Vincent 
Murray ! My resolution is taken ; I will rise or fall with 
my country !' 

" ' And perhaps the next time we meet,' said Lester, 

* it may be on the field of battle.' 

" * God forbid ! But should it even be the case, Gil- 
bert, I should know no friend among my country's 



112 THE TORY'S CONVERSION. 

enemies. Farewell — you will think better of this sub- 
ject ; and remember, that no one but a Republican will 
ever win Jane Hatfield,' said Murray. 

" The young men wrung each other's hands, and 
each went his way." 

" Murray thought he w^ould put in the last remark by 
way of strengthening the effect of the vision in the 
clouds, I suppose," remarked Mr. Jackson Harmar. 

'' Yes ; the promise of the hand of a lovely girl has a 
great influence on the opinions of a young man," replied 
Morton. ''But in this case, if you will wait till my 
story is through, you will see that Jane Hatfield had but 
little to do with Lester's conversion. The next morning 
after the occurrence of the wonderful phantom in the 
clouds, Murray left his home, and soon after enlisted in 
the army under General Montgomery. He was in the 
unlucky expedition against Quebec. 

" After the death of Montgomery, and the uniting of 
the different detachments under Arnold, as their head, 
Murray, to his marvellous astonishment, encountered his 
friend Gilbert Lester among the Pennsylvania riflemen, 
under Captain Morgan. By some strange accident, and 
each being ignorant of the proximity of the other, they 
had not met before the attack on Quebec. Great, there- 
fore, was Murray's surprise and pleasure ; for, since the 
evening of their last conversation on the banks of the 
Lehigh, he had no opportunity of learning whether there 
had been any change in the political sentiments of his 
friend. With the utmost fervor of delight he grasped 
his hand as he exclaimed : 



THE tort's conversion. 113 

"^I rejoice to see you, — but, my dear friend, what 
is the meaning of this meeting ? and how, in the name 
of wonder, came you here ?' 

" ' Why, it is truly a wonder to myself, Murray,' re- 
plied Lester, ' that I ever got here ; or that any of us, 
who passed through that frightful wilderness, are now 
alive to tell the story.' 

" ' The wilderness ! I should like to know how you 
contrived to get into the wilderness from the place where 
I last saw you ?' said Murray. 

" * I remember,' said Gilbert, laughing ; ' you left me 
looking at the clouds on the banks of the Lehigh ; and, 
perhaps, you imagine that I was taken up into them, and 
dropped down in that horrible place as a punishment for 
my toryism P 

" ' And if that was not the case, pray throw a little 
light on the mystery.' 

" * Have patience, then, and let me tell my story my 
own way. The getting into the labyrinth was a trifle in 
comparison to the getting out. Believe me, the tales of 
romance are nothing to the tremendous horrors of that 
march. Why do you look incredulous ?' 

" * You know your love of the marv^ellous, Gilbert — 
but go on ; only do n't out-Herod Herod in your descrip- 
tion.' 

" ' There is no danger of that — no description can 
come up to the truth. I looked upon that whole army 
in the desert as destined to make their next general 
parade in the heavens — and fancied you would see our 
poor, unhappy apparitions gliding through the sky ; and, 
10* 



114 THE TORY'S CONVERSION. 

perhaps, exclaim, ' Poor Gilbert ; he died in the good 
cause at last.' 

" ' It seems, however, that the necessity is spared of 
my making so pathetic an apostrophe. You had the 
good fortune to escape.' 

" ^ It was little less than a miracle that we did so, I 
assure you,' replied Gilbert. 

" ' Your preservation, then, should be a more con- 
vincing proof to your mind, that the Lord is on our side, 
and will not forsake us in this unequal strife.' 

" ' Ah,' replied Lester, ^ you may beat me in faith, 
Vincent, but I will contend that I have beaten you in 
works. Had you waded, as we did, through those 
hideous bogs, which a poor Irishman, whose bones we 
left on the way, declared, ' bate all the bogs of Ireland !' 
you would have said the Israelites in the wilderness had 
a happy time of it, compared to us. Why, we were 
drowned, and starved, and frozen, till we had nearly 
given up all hope of the honor of being shot.' 

" ' But you forget that I am still in ignorance of the 
preceding causes, which produced the revolution in your 
sentiments, and consequently influenced your actions 
after I left the farm,' said Murray, interrupting him. 

'' ' You are right,' replied Gilbert ; ' I am before my 
story. My head was so completely filled with the images 
on the way, that I was obliged to dispose of them first, 
ere I could clear a passage in my memory to relate what 
came before. It would, however, require too much time, 
at this moment, to enter into all the detail of argument 
and persuasion that gradually undermined my first prin- 
ciples. My imagination was a little excited by the 



THE Tory's conversion. 115 

whole scene at our last harvest festival. The sudden 
interruption in the dancing by the singular phenomena 
in the heavens, and the termination, from that evening, 
of all our accustomed mirth and gaiety, made a strong 
impression, which led me to inquire and reflect on pass- 
insf events, connected with the disturbances in the coun- 
try, much more closely and anxiously than I had done 
before. The result was a determination, in my own 
mind, to follow you. Knowing your admiration of 
General Washington, I instantly jumped at the conclu- 
sion that you had proceeded to Cambridge, in order to 
be guided in your future movements by the commander- 
in-chief; and so, without the least hesitation, I straight- 
way decided on pursuing the same course. You are 
well aware, Vincent, that I am a creature of impulse. 
My arrival at head-quarters happened to be at the mo- 
ment when Colonel Arnold was fitting out his troops for 
this unhappy expedition ; and meeting accidentally with 
an acquaintance among the Pennsylvania riflemen, I 
enlisted in the same regiment, under Captain Morgan. 
A spice of romance, which I believe nature infused into 
my disposition, and which was increased among the 
mountain passes and wild fastnesses of our native 
scenery, induced me to look forward with a kind of ad- 
venturous pleasure, to the projected passage through the 
unexplored wilderness. The probable hazard and diffi- 
culty of the exploit presented only a spur to my newly 
awakened ardor ; and thus, with my usual impetuosity 
of feeling, I pushed on among the most enthusiastic 
followers of Colonel Arnold. The concluding part of 



116 THE TORY'S CONVERSION. 

the history is written in the blood of our brave and gal- 
lant general; and now, in the .closing scene of the 
drama, I find myself, by a singular freak of fortune, 
thrown again in your company, in a place where I had 
little dreamed of such a meeting.' 

"In the meanwhile, an interesting event happened on 
the banks of the Lehigh. The usual business in that 
part of the country was suspended. The men congre- 
gated to talk over the causes and events of the w^ar, and 
the signs of the times. The appearance of the army in 
the heavens was still fresh in the minds of all ; and it 
was but a few w^eeks after the departure of Murray and 
Lester that another spectacle w^as seen, even more aston- 
ishing than the first. 

" It w^as on a September evening that the Aurora 
Borecdis was discovered in the sky. It grew brighter 
and brighter, and soon drew together a large number of 
the inhabitants of the neighborhood. The distance w^as 
short to the highest ground on the ridge of the Lehigh 
Mountains, and the whole party ascended to the summit, 
near the old road between Easton and Philadelphia. 
There they paused, to view the surrounding scenery in 
the broad, clear light. The Kittating Mountain, envel- 
oped in its blue shade of mist, lay far away to the north 
and w^est ; w^iile, on the Jersey side, to the east, the 
high Musconetcong rose darkly in the distance. Sud- 
denly, a cloud appeared on the blue sky above, and im- 
mediately, quick, successive sounds, as of the firing of 
cannon, broke on the ear. The cloud dispersed with 
the noise, and flying troops were seen rushing on from 



THE TORY'S CONVERSION. 117 

the west. Men and horses were mingled in one indis- 
criminate mass of confusion. The soldiers wore the 
uniform of the British ; but there was no order, as in the 
former vision. Ranks were cut up and destroyed — 
plumes were bent down and broken — horses fled with- 
out riders — and the fallen were trampled on by their 
companions. Terror seemed to move in their midst, as 
they hurried onward. The pillar of a cloud rose again 
behind them. It was like a thick smoke from the fire 
of the enemy. It curled and wreathed itself away in 
the heavens, and disappeared, as with another sound of 
guns. Then came the Continental Army. Soldiers 
marching in triumph — officers mounted, and flags of 
victory streaming on the sky. On and on, they followed 
in the pursuit, till the singular phantasm melted away in 
the east. 

" The sight was hailed with joy, as an omen of suc- 
cess to the American cause. Numerous were the spec- 
tators to that second vision — and some are yet alive in 
the part of the country where it was seen. 

" An account of this phenomenon was sent to Murray 
and Lester, and the latter became confirmed, heart and 
soul, in the cause to which he had attached himself. 
Now, I know, you may look upon these things with a 
smile of credulity, and say it was all the result of imagi- 
nation ; but a mere fancy cannot mislead hundreds of 
people, and make them believe that their eyes are traitors. 
I have told you nothing but what is well attested. I 
do n't pretend to know anything of the causes of such 
events, but I do know that these visions changed many 
a heart from toryism to patriotism." 



118 THE TORY'S CONVERSION. 

" I am very much obliged to you for your interesting 
story, Mr. Morton," said Mr. Jackson Harmar. " I 
like your plain, straight-forward style, and your matter 
excites my wonder. It is a fact, that General Washing- 
ton was known to observe and mention the remarkable 
apparitions in the heavens, at many different periods of 
the Revolution. They were not without their influence 
on his mind. I firmly believe that such things occurred ; 
and can look for no cause but that of God's providence, 
to explain them." 

Of course Mrs. Harmar believed the story of the ap- 
paritions to be perfectly true, and did not look for any 
other cause except the direct order of the Almighty ; 
but Wilson said he was always suspicious of such stories. 
He even ventured to offer an explanation of the phe- 
nomenon, \vhich amounted to this: — A thunder-storm 
came up while the people were gathered together, very 
much excited upon the subject of the war, and feeling 
very anxious for the success of the cause of the colonies ; 
one man thought he saw an army in the clouds driven 
before the winds, and heard the roar of the artillery ; 
this he communicated in an excited manner to the others, 
and they, disposed to believe, also thought the clouds 
looked '' very like a whale." But Morton, old Harmar, 
Mr. Jackson Harmar, Smith, and Higgins, brought their 
argumentative batteries to bear upon the explanation and 
incredulity of Wilson, and silenced, if they did not con- 
vince him. He admitted that a man of General Wash- 
ington's strength of mind could not easily be deceived, 
and said, that if it was a fact that he had seen and men- 



THE TOEY'S conversion. 119 

tioned the phenomenon, he could think it true ; but no 
one was prepared to prove what had been asserted. Mr. 
Morton was again thanked for the manner in which he 
had told the story, and Mr. Jackson Harmar said that 
some of the writers of the day might learn from him. 

"Of course, Murray and Lester lived through the 
war, went home to the banks of the Lehigh, and mar- 
ried the girls they loved," remarked Wilson. 

" They did ; and two very happy couples they made. 
Jane Hatfield had always been a republican in sentiment, 
and she loved Lester more than ever when she beared he 
had dropped toryism as something that would have burnt 
his fingers if he had held on to it," replied Morton. 



THE TIMELY RESCUE 



" When Mr. Morton commenced his story," said 
old Harmar, " he said there was considerable love-stuff 
mixed up with it, as if that was an objection to his tell- 
ing it. Now I can tell you a story of which love and 
fighting are the elements. The events occurred up here 
in New Jersey, and are true to the time and the people 
that acted in it." 

" No matter if it was all made up of love, if it illus- 
trated the character of the time, I should like to hear 
it," remarked Mr. Jackson Harmar. 

" And so should I," added his wife. 

" Is it that story about Captain Edwards and Miss 
Williams, that Bill Moore used to tell ?" inquired Higgins. 

" That 's the affair ; and, supposing you folks will 
wish to hear about it, I shall proceed. Shortly after the 
surrender of Burgoyne, two horsemen w^ere riding along 
the road which leads to the town of Ridgefield. One 
was Captam Edwards, and the other Lieutenant Brown. 
Their conversation partook of the spirit of the period. 

(120) 



THE TIMELY RESCUE. 121 

They were discussing the relative merits of General 
Gates and General Washington. Brown thought that 
Washington was deficient in energy, while Edwards 
thought him a model general, and Gates deficient in both 
energy and skill. They could not agree, and so they 
dropped the subject. 

"As the colloquy ended, the horsemen spurred on- 
ward, and soon arrived in view of the residence of Mrs. 
Williams, which was situated on a gentle acclivity, ac- 
cessible by a long avenue, skirted on either side with 
tall poplars, and entered at the extremity by a shght 
wooden gate. On entering this avenue, old Pompey 
came running towards them with a brow darkened a 
number of shades by his agitation, and grasping the 
bridle of Captain Edward's horse, exclaimed : 

" ' Oh ! for Heaven's sake, good master Edwards, 
do n't go to the house !' 

" ' What the devil 's the matter ?' ejaculated the cap- 
tain, as he endeavored to disengage the hold of the 
negro. 

" ' Mistress has gone clean 'stracted,' began the 
African, ^ because young Miss Caroline — ' 

" ' What of her ? — speak out, in the fiend's name !' 
exclaimed Captain Edwards, evincing much greater emo- 
tion than he had hitherto betrayed. 

" ' You stop me, sir ; I must tell my story in my own 
way,' replied Pompey. 

" ' Proceed with it, then, with a murrain to you,' said 
Lieutenant Brown, impatiently, ^ or, by heaven, I '11 beat 
it out of you with the flat of my sword.' 
11 



122 THE TIMELY RESCUE. 

" * Well, then,' cried the negro, angrily, ^ the tory 
Captain Lewis came to our house last night with some 
sodgers, and carried off Miss Caroline.' 

" ^ The unhung villain!' muttered Captain Edwards, 
from between his clenched teeth ; and then, compelling 
himself to speak more calmly, he said, 'Brown, my 
dear fellow, return directly .to the camp, and meet me at 
Stophel's tavern, with Sergeant Watkins and a dozen 
trusty soldiers. The scoundrel cannot escape me — I 
know every tory haunt between here and the Hudson ; I 
must go to the house, and console the afflicted Mrs. 
Williams.' 

" The subaltern struck his spurs into the flank of his 
steed, and hastened to execute the orders of his superior. 
The captain rode up the lane, and having reached the 
house, threw his bridle to a servant, and entered without 
ceremony. As he had anticipated, he found Mrs. Wil- 
liams in an indescribable state of grief; her health was 
delicate, and this unexpected calamity had prostrated 
her. After offering a few encouraging words, which 
produced but a very slight effect, he remounted his 
horse and rode to the place of rendezvous. Here he 
met Lieutenant Brow^n, a sergeant, corporal, and ten 
privates, all finely armed and equipped, and prepared to 
brave any danger and incur any hazard, in the service 
of a commander in w^hom they had the most unbounded 
confidence. He instantly placed himself at their head, 
and proceeded on his expedition. 

" It w^as now dark. Their road lay along the margin 
of a small stream, bounded on the one side by half cul- 



THE TIMELY RESCUE. 123 

tivated fields, and on the other by a thick gloomy forest, 
in which the death-like stillness of its dark bosom was 
only broken by the occasional howl of wild beasts. 

" After pursuing their course for some distance along 
the bank of this rivulet, now traversing the ground on 
its very margin, and then again carried by the windings 
of the path miles from the stream, they came to a sharp 
angle in the road, on turning which, the captain, being a 
short distance in advance of his troops, discovered a 
figure slightly defined, but yet bearing some resemblance 
to the human species, stealing along the side of the path, 
apparently wishing to avoid observation. 

" Striking his spurs into his horse, and drawing his 
sword at the same time, the captain had the person com- 
pletely in his power before the other had time to offer 
either flight or resistance. 

" ' For whom are you ?' was demanded by Captain 
Edw^ards, in no gentle accents. 

" ' I 'm nae just free to say,' replied the stranger, thus 
rudely interrogated, with the true Scotch evasion. 

" 'Answer me at once,' returned the captain; 'which 
party do you favor ?' 

" ' Ye might have the civility to give me a gentle hint 
which side ye belang to,' said Sawney. 

" ' No circumlocution,' rejoined the soldier, sternly. 
' Inform me immediately : Are you a mercenary of the 
tyrant of England, or a friend to liberty ? your life de- 
pends on your answer.' 

" ' Aweel, then,' said the Scotchman firmly, ' sin ye 
will have it, by my saul, I won't go to heaven with a lie 



124 THE TIMELY RESCUE. 

in my mouth — I 'm whig to the back-bone, ye carline ; 
now do your warst, and be hanged till ye !' " 

" He might still have been a foe," remarked Wilson. 
" He might have seen, from Edwards' language, that to 
be a whig was to ensure his safety." 

" I cannot say whether the Scotchman was sincere or 
not," replied old Harmar. " The American captain was 
well pleased to discover a friend, when he had every 
reason to expect an enemy ; and, after furnishing him 
with a pistol, and advising him to avoid the scouting 
parties of the enemy, by keeping in the wood, he again 
proceeded on his expedition. They soon reached a 
fork in the road : one branch led into the recesses of the 
wood, and the other lay still farther along the banks of 
the stream. On arriving at this spot, the captain, calling 
Lieutenant Brown a little distance from the troop, said, 
* A few miles' ride will carry us to an encampment of a 
party of these tories. I wish to reconnoitre the position 
of the enemy, and shall take the road which leads into 
the wood, for that purpose, while you with the soldiers 
will ride on the other road, till you wall arrive within 
sight of the enemy, and then return to this point, w^hich 
shall be our place of rendezvous. In the meantime, I 
wish you to avoid coming to any engagement with the 
tories ; but, in case you hear me fire two pistol shots, 
you may believe me to be in danger, and hasten to my 
relief.' 

" To command was to be obeyed wuth Captain Ed- 
wards, and soon no sound was heard save the slow and 
regular tread of the horses of the soldiers under com- 
mand of Lieutenant Brown 



THE TIMELY RESCUE. 125 

" Captain Lewis, the partisan tory who had carried 
off Miss WiUiaras, was an officer of some fame. Of 
Enghsh extraction, and bred in the principles of entire 
acquiescence in the orders of the British ministry, he 
beheld the struggles of the colonists with contempt. He 
saw the inhabitants rising about him in various parts of 
the country, with feelings of bitter hatred, and he deter- 
mined to crush these evidences of rebellion in the out- 
set. He accepted a captain's commission in the English 
army, and fought for a time under the banners of Gene- 
ral Clinton, with success worthy of a better cause. But 
taking offence at some imperious order of his commander, 
he threw up his commission in disgust, and retired to his 
native village near the river Hudson. Here, collecting 
about him a few choice spirits like himself, he kept the 
inhabitants in a continual state of alarm by his plunder- 
ing and rapacious conduct. Acting, as he pretended, 
under the orders of the king, the tories durst not oppose 
him, and the whigs were too few in numbers to resist his 
foraging excursions with any prospect of success. 

" In his youth he had been a school companion of 
Captain Edwards, but their principles were widely dis- 
similar, and little intercourse had taken place between 
them. In after life they embraced different sides, and 
the tory disliked the whig for his virtues, and envied his 
good name.' In one of his marauding expeditions he 
became acquainted with Miss Williams, and discovering^ 
the interest the republican had in her affections, he de- 
termined to get her into his power, for the purpose of 
holding a check on the whig officer, whom he equally 
11* 



126 THE TIMELY RESCUE. 

feared and hated. A libertine in principle, and a profli- 
gate in practice, he scrupled at no means to attain his 
object, and a violent attack on the peaceful dwelling of 
a defenceless woman was as consonant with his views as 
robbing a hen-roost. 

" The dwelling of this renegade was situated on a 
small hill on the bank of the river Hudson. His pecu- 
liar occupation, and the state of affairs in the country, 
had rendered it necessary for him to fortify and strengthen 
his house, and, at the time referred to, it resembled, 
what in fact it was, the rendezvous of a band of lawless 
desperadoes. 

" In the principal room of the building was the villain 
captain, with three of his officers, seated round a decayed 
table, playing cards ; on one end of the table stood a 
dirty decanter, partly filled with apple brandy ; three or 
four cracked, dingy tumblers w^ere scattered over the 
table, and the rest of the furniture of the apartment w^as 
in keeping. In one corner of the room sat Miss Wil- 
liams, apparently in the depth of wretchedness. She oc- 
casionally cast furtive glances at the captain, and then 
toward a small window^, w^hich w^as firmly barricaded ; 
but seeing no prospect of escape, she relapsed again 
into hopeless sorrow\ Groups of blackguard soldiers 
were seated on stools in different parts of the room, 
many of them following the example of their officers, 
and others amusing themselves w^ith burnishing their 
muskets and equipments. After numerous potations 
from his bottle, the captain started up, reeling under the 
influence of the liquor, and addressing a ruffian-looking 
officer, one of his boon companions, said : 



THE TIMELY RESCUE. 127 

" * Lieutenant Jocelyn, have the drum beat to arms, 
and take these lazy knaves and scour the woods for a 
few miles around, and cut down or make prisoner every 
rebel rascal you meet ; leave soldiers enough, however, 
to guard the old castle; quick — blast me, no hesita- 
tion.' 

" ^ Humph !' muttered the old soldier ; ^ ready enough 
to run his comrades into the noose, but devilish careful 
to keep his own delicate person out of danger.' 

" ' Ha! what say you, old grumbler? You shall stay 
here and guard the lady, if you are so much afraid of 
your beautiful self; and I will take command of the 
men.' 

" The lieutenant liked this proposition still worse than 
the former, but seeing no alternative, obeyed in silence. 
In a short time, the captain, accompanied by about 
twenty men, including a sergeant and two corporals, 
left their camp and proceeded toward the wood. It was 
night-fall when they reached the forest, through which 
the road was very narrow and circuitous. They were 
travelling along the path in double files, when the ser- 
geant in front ordered a halt. 

" < Why do we stop here,' roared the captain, * when 
it is as dark as Egypt ?' 

" ' I hear a noise like the trampling of horses,' replied 
the sergeant. 

" ' Hist, then,' said Captain Lewis ; ' draw up the men 
into a body, and await their arrival in silence.' 

" ^ The horse's footsteps were now distinctly heard ; 
but it was a solitary horseman whom these worthy sol- 



128 T HE T I M ELY RESCUE. 

diers were to encounter. When he arrived within 
speaking distance, the sergeant advanced a few paces in 
front of the soldiers, and exclaimed : 

" ' Stand ! stand ! or you are a dead man !' 
"The horseman evinced no disposition to comply 
with this arbitrary requisition, but deliberately drew a 
pistol from his holsters and endeavored to urge his 
horse through the ranks of his opponents. Captain 
Lewis now came to the front of his men, and ordered : 
" 'Seize the bridle, and down with the rebel!' 
" ' Let no man lay a hand on me or my horse, as he 
values his life,' said the horseman in a determined tone, 
at the same time cocking his pistol. 

" ' The sergeant drew back a few yards, and dis- 
charged his ca bine, but without effect ; two soldiers 
grasped the horse by the head at the same instant. The 
horseman, seeing a struggle inevitable, literally blew out 
the brains of one of his assailants, and, plucking his 
other pistol from its holster with his left hand, he fired at 
and slightly wounded his second antagonist ; he now 
threw aside his pistols, &c., and then drew his heavy 
broadsword, and essayed to cut his way through his 
opponents — but giant strength, combined with the most 
desperate courage, could not compete with such vast 
disparity of numbers ; some of his enemies fastened 
themselves on his horse, while others thrust at him with 
their bayonets, and, after a protracted contest, during 
which the tories lost five men, the horseman was dis- 
armed and brought to the ground. 

" ' Bind the rebel dog,' shouted the infuriated cap- 



THE TIMELY EESCUE. 129 

tain ; * he shall die the death of a felon, were he George 
Washington. By Heaven !' continued he, as he viewed 
the prostrate horseman, ' it is Captain Edwards ! Are 
then my dearest wishes gratified ? I will be doubly 
revenged ! Bind him hand and foot, boys, and throw 
him across his own horse, if the beast can bear him ; if 
not, drive a bullet through the horse's brains, and carry 
the soldier in your arms.' 

" The whig officer was firmly bound and placed on 
his own charger, while a soldier marched on either side 
of him, and another led the horse. After prosecuting 
their route homeward near a mile, they were startled 
with ^ No quarter to the cowardly tories ! cut them down 
root and branch !' followed by the discharge of near a 
dozen pistols, which killed four men, and wounded two 
or three others ; and in a moment they were nearly sur- 
rounded by the dragoons under command of Lieutenant 
Brown. For a short time the contest was maintained 
with vigor ; the bonds of Captain Edwards were soon 
cut ; he attacked the tory captain, sword in hand, 
and, after a short conflict, succeeded in wounding him 
in the sword-arm and hurling him to the ground, and 
placing his foot on his breast, he said : 

"*Now, you dastardly ruffian, avow your villanies, 
and inform me where I shall find Miss Howard, or, by 
heaven, I will send you where the tenor of your life will 
be hard to account for.' 

" The fierceness of the whig soldier's manner, and 
the consciousness of being wholly in his power, com- 
pletely humbled the tory, and he begged his life, and 



130 THE TIMELY RESCUE. 

promised to conduct the troops to his encampment, 
where they would find the lady in safety. 

^' The tories were now effectually routed ; some were 
killed, some wounded, others captured, and some had 
escaped. A few miles' travel, and Captain Edwards 
and the men under his command arrived at the habita- 
tion of the tories. A coarse slovenly soldier was pacing 
the ground in front of the building, and, on the advance 
of the continental troops, presented his musket, and or- 
dered them to halt. Captain Edw^ards briefly informed 
him of the reverse that had taken place in the fortunes 
of his commander, and concluded by telling him that 
' Submission was safety — resistance death.' 

" The door was now burst open, and in a moment 
Miss Williams was folded in the arms of her lover. 

" Litde more remains to be told. No entreaties of 
Captain Edwards, or persuasions of her aunt, could in- 
duce Miss WilHams to give her hand to her admirer till 
the close of the war. On the establishment of peace, 
Colonel Edwards, (for he had received that rank,) was 
made happy in the possession of his long-tried affection. 
Lieutenant Brown served under his captain during the 
war, and, on the promotion of Captain Edwards, suc- 
ceeded to his command. The tory Lewis, and the re- 
mainder of his guilty accomplices, were captured shortly 
after the occurrence of the events I have related, and 
executed for desertion." 

" The tories generally received the worst of every en- 
counter," remarked Higgins; " at least, so all our love- 
story tellers say." 



THE TIMELY RESCUE. 131 

"What I have told you I know to be true — just as 
Bill Moore, who was one of Captain Edwards' men, 
used to tell it," replied old Harmar. 

" I believe it to be a fact that the tories did get the 
worst of most of the encounters in which they had an 
equal number of our men to deal with. The reason was 
plain. They had not the same great motives to spur 
them to daring and noble effort ; and the whigs fought 
against them with more ardor than they would against 
the British," said Wilson. 

" Captain Edwards was a host. Just think of one 
man daring to resist the attack of twenty men, and kill- 
ing five of them before he w^as taken. It seems like the 
deed of a fabulous hero," remarked Mr. Jackson Harmar. 

" The case was a desperate one, and demanded des- 
perate conduct. A surrender would not have saved his 
life, and might have secured Miss Williams in the hands 
of Lewis. By a bold attack, Edwards won new repu- 
tation and alarmed his men, w^ho then saved his life and 
the honor of his beloved," said old Harmar, in defence 
of his hero. 

" I expect they would have murdered the poor man, 
and then Lewis would have forced Miss Williams to be- 
come his wdfe — the wretch !" put in Mrs. Harmar. 

" Nothing would have been too black for his heart, 
when he had an end in view. Such men are the most 
dangerous foes to their fellows, and we must rejoice 
when a just punishment overtakes them in their head- 
strong career. Many of those who are glorified as great 
men have possessed the same unscrupulous disposition. 



132 THE TIMELY RESCUE. 

The only difference between them and Lewis lies in this 
— they fixed their minds on greater objects," said old 
Harmar. 

" What 's that for ?" inquired Higgins, starting up as 
the sound of drum and fife broke on his ear. Mrs. 
Harmar went to the front window, and reported that a 
volunteer company of soldiers was coming down the 
street. The old men instantly crowded round the win- 
dow, and expressed their gratification at the sight that 
presented itself. The volunteers were neatly uniformed 
and very precisely drilled. They marched with the firm 
and uniform tread of regulars. The " ear-piercing fife 
and spirit-stirring drum" discoursed the music sweetest 
to the ears of the old warriors, and their eyes brightened 
and they made an effort to straighten themselves, as if 
"the old time came o'er them." They lingered at the 
window as long as they could catch the sound, and long 
after the volunteers had turned the corner of the street. 
Perhaps, if we had possessed sufficient mental insight, 
we might have been with those old men in the scenes 
that came back to their minds like a tide that had seemed 
to have ebbed away for ever. We might have been 
wath them where the drum and fife w^ere as strong drink 
to the warriors, firing their hearts and steeling their 
nerves for the bloody struggle. But we are left to con- 
jecture what was present to their imaginations by what 
they express in conversation. 



BATTLE OF GEKMANTOWN. 



" Those fellows look very neat and prim ; they march 
well, and their muskets are polished very bright. I 
wonder how they would stand fire," said Higgins, after 
the party had seated themselves. 

" I doubt if they would like it as well as parading the 
streets; but there may be some stout hearts among 
them," replied old Harmar. 

" They should have been at Brandywine or German- 
town. At either place they would have had a chance to 
prove their stuff. Fife and drum would have been 
necessary, I think, to stir them up," said Wilson. 

" I paid a visit to Germantown, the other day," said 
Mr. Jackson Harmar. " I passed over the chief portion 
of the battle-ground, and examined Chew's house, 
where some of the British took refuge and managed to 
turn the fortunes of the day. The house is in a good 
state of preservation, and bears many marks of the con- 
flict." 

" I have seen it since the day of the battle, and have 
also walked over the neighboring grounds," said Smith. 
12 (133) 



134 BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 

" You are wrong in stating that the troops that threw 
themselves into that house turned the fortune of the day. 
Our defeat was the result of many unlooked-for circum- 
stances, which no general could have been prepared to 
meet." 

" I have always understood that the check received 
by our troops at Chew's house gave the enemy time to 
rally, and thus defeated Washington's plan," replied 
Mr. Jackson Harmar. " If it was otherwise, I should 
like to be informed of the circumstances." 

"Oh, tell us about the battle of Germantown,*Mr. 
Smith!" exclaimed Mrs. Harmar. She had some ac- 
quaintances at Germantown, and she wished to astound 
them by the extent of her information. " Father says 
he was not in the battle, being sick at the time. Be- 
sides, if he knew, he would never condescend to tell 
me about it, when he could find Jackson to talk to." 

" Why, I 'm sure, my child, you never seemed very 
anxious to know," replied old Harmar; "but if you 
will listen to Mr. Smith, you will know all about it. He 
was present during the whole battle." 

"Ay; and did my share of the fighting, too," added 
Smith. " But I '11 tell you how it was ; and you, Mr. 
Harmar, may judge whether our defeat was owing in 
any degree to the exertions of the enemy. After General 
Howe took possession of Philadelphia, the main body 
of the British was encamped at Germantown. Our 
army lay at Skippack Creek, about sixteen miles from 
Germantown. Well, General Washington having re- 
ceived all the reinforcements he expected, and knowing 



BATTLE OP GERMANTOWN. 135 

that the enemy had been considerably weakened by send- 
ing detachments to take possession of the city and the 
ports on the river, determined to attempt to surprise 
them in their camp. The plan was formed with all the 
judgment and foresight we might expect in Washington. 
We were to march at night for Germantown. Wayne 
and Sullivan were to attack the left wing of the enemy 
in front, whilst Armstrong, with a body of militia, at- 
tacked it in the rear. Greene and Stephens were to 
attack the right wing in front, while Small wood fell upon 
its rear. Then there was a strong reserve. Of course, 
I was with the Pennsylvania line, under Wayne's com- 
mand. We started on the evening of the third of October. 
I shall never forget that night's march. It was very 
dark. We could scarcely see three feet from us ; and, 
as we wished to move on so as not to be discovered by 
any of those who usually gave the enemy information, 
we carried very few Ian thorns. The road, however, was 
well known, and we marched rapidly and surely. As 
we approached Germantown, we found an evidence that 
the enemy were aware of our vicinity, and Wayne de- 
termined to attack at once. Just at dawn of day, a 
party of Sullivan's troops attacked the picket at the end 
of the village, and our whole division rushed on as the 
picket was driven in. The surprise was complete. The 
enemy could not make a stand. They were broken and 
routed, and their tents and marquees burnt. We pushed 
on, took some prisoners, and drove the British from be- 
hind fences and houses where they had taken shelter. 
"Six companies of a British regiment, under their 



136 BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 

lieutenant-colonel, being hard pressed by an advancing 
column, threw themselves into Chew's house, and, bar- 
ricading the lower windows, opened a destructive fire 
from the cellars and upper windows. Our troops, find- 
ing their musketry made no impression, were in the act 
of dragging up their cannon to batter the w^alls, when a 
stratagem was attempted, which, however, failed of suc- 
cess. An officer galloped up from the house, and cried 
out, ^ What are you about ? you will fire on your own 
people.' The artillery opened, but, after fifteen or 
twenty rounds, the pieces were found to be of too small 
calibre to make a serious impression, and were with- 
drawn. 

"A most daring attempt was then made to fire the 
building. Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens, aid- de-camp to 
the commander-in-chief, with a few volunteers, rushed 
up to the house under cover of the smoke, and applied 
a burning brand to the principal- door, at the same time 
exchanging passes with his sword with the enemy on the 
inside. By almost a miracle, this gallant officer escaped 
unharmed, although his clothes w^ere repeatedly torn by 
the enemy's shot. Another and equally daring attempt 
was made by Major White, aid-de-camp to General 
Sullivan, but without as fortunate a result. The major, 
while in the act of firing one of the cellar windows, was 
mortally wounded, and died soon after. 

" Washington accompanied the leading division un- 
der Major- General Sullivan, and cheered his soldiers in 
their brilliant onset, as they drove the enemy from point 
to point. Arriving in the vicinity of Chew's house, the 



BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 137 

commander-in-chief halted to consult his officers as to 
the best course to be pursued towards this fortress that 
had so suddenly and unexpectedly sprung up in the 
way. The younger officers who were immediately at- 
tached to the person of the chief, and among the choicest 
spirits of the Revolution, including Hamilton, Reed, 
Pinckney, Laurens, and Lee, were for leaving Chew's 
house to itself, or of turning the siege into a blockade, 
by stationing in its vicinity a body of troops to watch the 
movements of the garrison, and pressing on with the 
column in pursuit of the flying enemy. But the sages 
of the army, at the head of whom was Major-General 
Knox, repulsed at once the idea of leaving a fortified 
enemy in the rear, as contrary to the usages of w^ar and 
the most approved military authorities. 

"At this period of the action the fog had become so 
dense that objects could scarcely be distinguished at a 
few yards' distance. We had penetrated the enemy's 
camp even to their second line, which was drawn up to 
receive us about the centre of Germantown. The ammu- 
nition of the right wing, including the Maryland brigades, 
became exhausted, the soldiers holding up their empty 
cartridge boxes, when their. officers called on them to 
rally and face the enemy. The extended line of opera- 
tions, which embraced nearly two miles, the unfavorable 
nature of the ground in the environs of Germantown for 
the operations of the troops, a large portion of whom 
were undisciplined, the ground being much cut up, and 
mtersected by stone fences and enclosures of various 
sorts, the delay of the left wing under Greene in getting 
12* 



138 BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 

into action — all these causes, combined with an atmos- 
phere so dense from fog and smoke as to make it impos- 
sible to distinguish friend from foe, produced a retreat 
in our army at the moment when victory seemed to be 
within its grasp. 

" Washington was among the foremost in his endea- 
vors to restore the fallen fortunes of the day, and, while 
exerting himself to rally his broken columns, the expo- 
sure of his person became so imminent, that his officers, 
after affectionately remonstrating with him in vain, seized 
the bridle of his horse. The retreat, under all circum- 
stances, was quite as favorable as could be expected. 
The whole of the artillery was saved, and as many of the 
wounded as could be removed. The ninth Virginia 
regiment, under Colonel Mathews, having penetrated so 
far as to be without support, after a desperate resistance, 
surrendered its remnant of a hundred men, including its 
colonel, who had received several bayonet wounds. 
The British pursued but two or three miles, making 
prisoners of the worn-out soldiers, who, after a night- 
march of fifteen miles and an action of three hours, 
were found exhausted and asleep in the fields and along 
the road. 

" I made a narrow escape from being taken by a party 
of dragoons. They were nearly upon a small body of 
us that had got separated from our division, before we 
perceived them. I gave the alarm, and we ran on, as 
we thought, toward our troops ; but the fog was so thick 
that we mistook the way, and wandered about for some 
time in constant risk of being surrounded by the enemy. 



BATTLE OF GBR MAN TOWN. 139 

At length we stumbled on the main body of our line, 
and retreated with them. I never saw a more irritated 
and disappointed set of men than our officers on that 
day. Every one had a different cause for the repulse. 
Some said that Greene did not come up in time to aid 
Wayne and Sullivan ; while others said that Greene had 
performed the most effective service during the engage- 
ment, and that the loss of the day was owing to the 
military prejudices. of Knox and some others, who would 
halt to attack Chew's house, instead of following up the 
advantages already gained. Then the fog was blamed 
for the confusion it caused. The fact was, the defeat 
was owing to many causes combined, some of which I 
have mentioned." 

*' The attack was certainly skilfully planned and truly 
executed, in spite of its want of success," remarked old 
Harmar. " Your opinion of the causes of the defeat, 
Mr. Smith, is that which is now generally adopted. The 
halt at Chew's house did not give rise to the retreat of 
Sullivan's division. The ammunition of the troops was 
exhausted, and they were not aware of Greene's ap- 
proach until they had begun to fall back. By the way, 
did you hear how General Nash was killed ?" 

" He was killed by a cannon-ball, I believe," replied 
Smith. 

" Yes," said old Harmar. " A round-shot from the 
British artillery striking a sign-post in Germantown, 
glanced therefrom, and, passing through his horse, shat- 
tered the general's thigh on the opposite side. The fall 
of the animal hurled its unfortunate rider with consider- 



140 BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 

able force to the ground. With surprising courage and 
presence of mind, General Nash, covering his wound 
with both of his hands, called to his men, ^ Never mind 
me, I have had a devil of a tumble ; rush on, my boys, 
rush on the enemy — I'll be after you presently.' He 
could do no more. Faint from loss of blood and the 
intense agony of his wound, the sufferer was borne to a 
house hard by, and attended by Dr. Craik, by special 
order of the commander-in-chief. The doctor gave his 
patient but feeble hopes of recovery, even with the 
chances of amputation, when Nash observed, ' It may 
be considered unmanly to complain, but my agony is too 
great for human nature to bear. I am aware that my 
days, perhaps hours, are numbered, but I do not repine 
at my fate. I have fallen on the field of honor, while 
leading my brave Carolinians to the assault of the enemy. 
I have a last request to make of his Excellency, the 
commander-in-chief, that he will permit you, my dear 
doctor, to remain with me, to protect me while I live, 
and my remains from insult.' Dr. Craik assured the 
general that he had nothing to fear from the enemy ; it 
w^as impossible that they would harm him while hving, 
or offer insult to his remains ; that Lord Cornwallis was 
by this time in the field, and that, under his auspices, a 
wounded soldier would be treated with humanity and 
respect. The dying patriot and hero then uttered these 
memorable words : ' I have no favors to expect from the 
enemy. I have been consistent in my principles and 
conduct since the commencement of the troubles. From 
the very first dawn of the Revolution I have ever been 
on the side of liberty and my country.' 



BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 141 

"He lingered in extreme torture between two and 
three days, and died admired by his enemies, admired 
and lamented by his companions in arms. On Thursday, 
the ninth of October, the whole American army was 
paraded by order of the commander-in-chief, to perform 
the funeral obsequies of General Nash." 

" I have heard those who knew him best speak of him 
as a brave soldier and a noble-hearted man ; and your 
account of his death assures me of the truth of their 
eulogy," remarked Smith. 

" It is said that Washington, seeing that his w^ll- 
arranged plan was about to be defeated, could not con- 
trol his anger and disappointment," said Mr. Jackson 
Harmar. 

"It is true. Washington, like all very great men, 
was naturally strongly passionate. His usual self-com- 
mand w^as the more wonderful because it had been 
acquired by stern practice. The battle of Germantown 
w^as one of those few occasions in his life w'hen his 
feelings burst through all restraint ; and then, it is said 
by those who should know, that his wrath was fierce 
and terrible. The officers were compelled, by consider- 
ations of his safety, to lead his horse from the field. He 
did all that a man could do to rally his broken troops, 
and exposed himself as fearlessly as the bravest soldier. 
All his exertions were vain, however, and he became 
much irritated in consequence." 

" The retreat just when victory was within his grasp 
was enough to irritate any commander who valued his 
aim and plan," observed Mr. Jackson Harmar, agreeing 
with Smith in the remarks which he had just made. 



142 BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 

" I suppose, if Washington had been completely 
successful at Germantown, the British would have been 
driven from Philadelphia," said Higgins. 

" Ay ; and from the vicinity of Philadelphia," replied 
Smith. "They could not have recovered from such a 
defeat." 



BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 



" Father," said Mr. Jackson Harmar, " I have a song 
in my portfolio, written by Francis Hopkinson while the 
British were in Philadelphia ; perhaps you can tell us 
something about the event which is the subject of it. 
Here it is. It is called ' The Battle of the Kegs.' " 

" The Battle of the Kegs ! That I can, my boy. But 
read the song," replied old Harmar. His son then read 
the following facetious ditty : 

" Gallants, attend, and hear a friend 

Trill forth harmonious ditty : 
Strange things I '11 tell, which late befell 

In Philadelphia city. 

'T was early day, as poets say, 

Just when the sun was rising-, 
A soldier stood on log of wood, 

And saw a sight surprising. 

As, in amaze, he stood to gaze, — 

The truth can 't be denied, sirs, — 
He spied a score — of kegs, or more, 

Gome floating down the tide, sirs. 

(143) 



144 BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 

A sailor, too, in jerkin blue, 

The strange appearance viewing-, 

First damn'd his eyes, in great surprise, 
Then said, 'Some mischief's brewing. 

These kegs now hold the rebels bold, 
Pack'd up like pickled herring: 

And they 're come down to attack the town, 
In this new way of ferrying.' 

The soldier flew, the sailor, too. 
And, scared almost to death, sirs, 

Wore out their shoes to spread the news, 
And ran till out of breath, sirs. 

Now up and down, throughout the town, 
Most frantic scenes were acted ; 

And some ran here, and some ran there, 
Like men almost distracted. 

Some fire cried, which some denied, 
But said the earth had quaked ; 

And girls and boys, with hideous noise, 
Ran through the town half-naked. 

Sir William he, snug as a flea. 

Lay all this time a snoring. 
Nor dream'd of harm, as he lay warm. 

While all without was roaring. 

Now, in affright, he starts upright, 

Awaked by such a clatter : 
He rubs both eyes, and boldly cries, 

' For God's sake, what 's the matter?' 



BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 145 

At his bedside he then espied 

Sir Erskine at command, sirs ; 
Upon one foot he had one boot, 

And t' other in his hand, sirs. 

* Arise ! arise !' Sir Erskine cries : 

' The rebels — more 's the pity — 
Without a boat, are all afloat, 
And ranged before the city. 

' The motley crew, in vessels new, 

With Satan for their guide, sir, 
Pack'd up in bags, or wooden kegs. 

Come driving down the tide, sir. 

* Therefore prepare for bloody war ! 

These kegs must all be routed ; 
Or surely we despised shall be, 
And British courage doubted.' 

The royal band now ready stand, . 

All ranged in dread array, sirs; 
With stomach stout, to see it out. 

And make a bloody day, sirs. 

The cannons roar from shore to shore, 

The small arms make a rattle ; 
Since wars began, I 'm sure no man 

E'er saw so strange a battle. 

The rebel vales, the rebel dales, 
With rebel trees surrounded, 
The distant woods, the hills and floods, 
With rebel echoes sounded. 
13 



146 BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 

The fish below swam to and fro, 

Attack'd from every quarter : 
Why, sure, thought they, the devil 's to pay 

'Mongst folks above the water. 

The kegs, 't is said, though strongly made, 

Of rebel staves and hoops, sirs, 
Could not oppose their powerful foes, 

The conquering British troops, sirs. 

From morn to night, these men of might 

Display'd amazing courage ; 
And when the sun was fairly down, 

Retired to sup their porridge. 

A hundred men, with each a pen, 

Or more — upon my word, sirs, 
It is most true — would be too few 

Their valor to record, sirs. 

Such feats did they perform that day 

Upon these wicked kegs, sirs. 
That years to come, if they get home, 

They '11 make their boasts and brags, sirs." 

" Ha ! ha ! that 's a good thing. The enemy used to 
be so fond of the word ' rebel ' that they would attach it to 
the most trifling things, when speaking of our people. 
Judge Hopkinson ridicules that in fine style," remarked 
old Harmar. 

"It ought to be sung to the tune of the 'Hoosier's 
Ghost,' " said Wilson. 

" Who is the Sir Erskine alluded to in the song .?" 
inquired Mrs. Harmar. 



BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 147 

" Sir William Erskine, one of Sir William Howe's 
officers," replied old Harmar. " This song created much 
merriment among the whigs at the time it was written, 
so that, however much the enemy were right, we had 
the laugh on our side." 

" But what were the circumstances which gave rise to 
it ?" inquired Mr. Jackson Harmar, impatiently. 

" I was about to tell you," replied his father. " A 
Mr. David Bushnell had invented several ingenious ar- 
ticles of submarine machinery, for the purpose of destroy- 
ing the British vessels stationed in the Delaware. Among 
these was the American torpedo, a machine shaped like 
a water tortoise, and managed by a single person. It 
contained sufficient air to support respiration thirty 
minutes without being replenished, valves to admit or 
reject water for the purpose of rising or sinking, ballast 
to keep it upright, and a seat for the operator. Above 
the rudder was a place for carrying a large powder 
magazine, constructed from two pieces of oak timber, 
and capable of carrying one hundred and fifty pounds 
of powder, with the apparatus for firing it. Within the 
magazine was an apparatus constructed to run any pro- 
posed length of time under twelve hours, after which it 
sprung a strong lock similar to that of a gun, w^hich gave 
fire to the powder. This apparatus was so secured that 
it could be set in motion only by the casting off of the 
magazine from the vessel. 

" With this machine a skilful operator could swim so 
low on the surface of the water, as to approach at night 
very near to a ship without being discovered. After 



148 BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 

sinking quickly, he could keep at any necessary depth, 
and row to a great distance in any direction, without 
coming to the surface. Bushnell found, however, that 
much trial and instruction were required for a man of 
common ingenuity to become a skilful manager. It was 
first tried by his brother, who, unfortunately, was taken 
ill at the time when he had become an able operator. 
Another person was procured, and the first experiment 
tried upon the Eagle, a sixty-four, which Lord Howe 
commanded m person. He went under the ship, and 
attempted to fix the wooden screw into her bottom, but 
struck, as was supposed, a bar of iron running from the 
rudder-hinge. Not being well skilled in the manage- 
ment of the machine, he lost the ship in attempting to 
move to another place ; and, after seeking her in vain 
for some time, rowed a little distance and rose to the 
surface. Daylight had now advanced so that the attempt 
could not be renewed, and, fearing he was discovered, 
he detached the magazine from his vessel and escaped. 
In an hour the powder exploded, throwing a vast column 
of water to an amazing height, and leaving the enemy 
to conjecture whether it was caused by a bomb, a water- 
spout, or an earthquake. Want of resources obliged 
Mr. Bushnell to abandon his schemes for that time ; but, 
in 1777, he made an attempt from a whale-boat against 
the Cerberus frigate, by drawing a machine against her 
side with a line. It accidentally became attached to a 
schooner and exploded, tearing the vessel in pieces. 
Three men were killed, and one dangerously wounded. 
" In December, 1777, Mr. Bushnell contrived another 



BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 149 

ingenious expedient for accomplishing his favorite object. 
He charged a number of kegs with powder, arranging 
them so as to explode on coming in contact with any- 
thing while floating along the tide. This squadron was 
launched at night on the Delaware river, above the 
English shipping ; but, unfortunately, the proper distance 
could not be well ascertained, and they were set adrift 
too far from the vessels, so that they became obstructed 
and dispersed by the floating ice. On the following 
day, however, one of them blew up a boat, and others 
exploded, occasioning the greatest consternation among 
the British seamen. The troops were aroused, and, with 
the sailors, manned the wharves and shipping at Phila- 
delphia, discharging their cannon and small-arms at 
everything they could see floating in the river during the 
ebb tide. 

" The scene must have been a very ridiculous one, 
and we cannot wonder at Judge Hopkinson making such 
comic use of it. The British must have imao:ined that 
every keg was the visible part of a torpedo, intended 
for their destruction." 

" We cannot wonder at their consternation, while in 
constant danger of being blown into the air," said Mr. 
Jackson Harmar. " Just place yourself in their posi- 
tion ; and, knowing that several attempts had been made 
to blow up the ships, how would you have acted?" 

"I should have made quite as much noise, I sup- 
pose," replied old Harmar ; ^' but then it w^as so laugh- 
able. I do n't think the folks aboard of those ships slept 
for a week after finding that there was powder in the 
13* 



150 BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 

kegs. That, I believe, was BnshnelPs last attempt to 
destroy the fleet." 

"For my part," remarked Wilson, "I never liked 
such contrivances ; and it is a very pregnant fact that in 
most cases they have failed, when, from the skill and 
science displayed in their construction, success was an- 
ticipated. It 's my opinion, God works against such 
things. As much as I hated the enemy, I could not 
sanction such wholesale murder — for murder it w^ould 
have been, to have sent hundreds of men into eternity, 
•without giving them an inch of fair fighting ground. I 
would not have minded blowing up the British govern- 
ment — that I could have done myself without any more 
sting of conscience than the hangman feels ; but soldiers 
and seamen fight fairly and openly for their country's 
honor and rights, as they understand those things, and 
they should be met in the same manner." 

" You 're right, Mr. Wilson. Torpedoes, catama- 
rans, and such inventions, might be employed by both 
parties in war, and with destructive effect. But wars 
ought to be conducted in such a manner as to gain the 
desired end with as little loss of life as possible ; besides, 
in the eyes of all really brave men, these things must 
seem cowardly," said Morton. 

" You must permit me to differ with you, gentlemen," 
put in Mr. Jackson Harmar ; and, in a very dignified, 
Congressional style, he delivered himself of the follow- 
ing defence of the innovations of modern warfare : " I 
view all such contrivances as the triumph of the genius and 
skill of man over mere brute force, and as tending to the 



BATTLE OF THE KEGS. 151 

great ends of the peace and happiness of mankind. 
They place the weak upon a level with the strong, and 
make it evident to every one that the best course would 
be to submit all questions of right to the arbitration of 
the mind instead of the arm and sword. Suppose I, 
being a small, weak man, should quarrel with a man of 
great physical strength, and a hatred to the death should 
be declared between us. Now, upon whichever side the 
bone of right lay, the strong man would have the power 
to destroy me ; but if I set my brain to w^ork, and con- 
trive an ' infernal machine,' I shall be superior to him, 
and drive him to the same resource. Now, we both see 
by this, that we stand an even chance of being destroyed, 
and reason resumes her reis^n. We see that the wisest 
and safest course for both would be to submit the ques- 
tion involved in the quarrel to the judgment of a mutual 
and impartial friend. Even so these inventions operate 
among nations, which, by the way, should be ruled by 
the same general principles as individuals." 

" That 's all very true," remarked Wilson. "But if 
I was about to fight a duel with a man, and I stood up, 
pistol in hand, while he stood off beyond my reach, and 
with some infernal invention endeavored to kill me, I 
should call him a coward." 

" That would not settle the dispute," said Mr. Jack- 
son Harmar. " Your wisest course w^ould be to equal 
his invention, and compel him to fight fairly or make 
peace." 



ARNOLD'S TREASON 



"Many strange and many laughable public events 
occurred in Philadelphia during the Revolution," said 
old Harmar. " I was with the army during the greater 
part of the time, but our family remained in the city, 
and kept me advised of everything that was going on. 
I was engaged to be married to your mother, Jackson, 
before the war commenced, and I had to leave her in 
Philadelphia also, until the war was over. She used to 
write me letters, telling me about everything that passed 
in the city that was interesting. I recollect in one letter 
she gave me an account of how the news of Arnold's 
treason was received among the people." 

" With blessings on the traitor's head, of course," 
remarked Wilson, ironically. 

" I could imagine how it was received," said Mr. 
Jackson Harmar. " The people were indignant and 
cursed the traitor." 

" The people of Philadelphia knew Arnold's real 
character," replied old Harmar. " They knew, from 

(152) 



ARNOLD'S TREASON. 153 

his residence among them, that he was capable of selhng 
his soul for gold, glory, and pleasure ; but they did not 
suspect him of any intention of leaving our cause en- 
tirely. They thought he would see that it was for his 
interest to stand by his country's rights. While in com- 
mand in this city, Arnold had been very intimate with 
several wealthy tory families, and I believe had married 
a lady who w'as connected with them. But such an in- 
timacy was not sufficient to justify suspicions of his 
patriotism, if it had not been joined with other circum- 
stances. He gave great entertainments at his house, and 
lived as if he was worth a mint of money. Then he 
was always in trouble with the committees of Congress 
about money matters, which made people generally be- 
lieve that he cared more for gold than he did for prin- 
ciples. Well, w'hen the news of his discovered treachery 
reached Philadelphia, the men with whom he had been 
WTangling about money said they knew it would turn out 
just so, and they never expected anything else ; and the 
citizens generally were very indignant. They chose 
some laughable ways of showing the state of their feel- 
ings. An artist constructed a stuffed figure of the 
traitor, as large as life, and seated him in a cart, with a 
figure of the devil alongside of him, holding a lantern 
so as to show his face to the people. The words 
' Benedict Arnold, the Traitor,' were placed on a board 
over the head of the first figure. An evening w^as ap- 
pointed for the display, and the hanging and burning of 
the effigy. A vast procession was formed, with the cart 
at the head, and drums and fife playing the Rogues' 



154 Arnold's treason. 

March. This paraded the streets of the city during the 
whole evening. The people groaned and hissed, and 
pelted the figures as they passed. At length the proces- 
sion reached a common which had been selected for the 
purpose, and on which a gallows had been erected. 
There the effigy was hung, and then taken down and 
burnt. In the fire, the figure of old Nick was arranged 
with one hand upon Arnold's head, and the other point- 
ing below, while he grinned as if over a triumph." 

"An appropriate ceremony," said Wilson. 

"It must have been a great sight," observed Mrs. 
Harmar. 

" They should have caught the man himself, and 
burnt him instead of a stuflfed figure," said Higgins. 

" It would have saved Andre," remarked Smith. 

"The scoundrel!" exclaimed Morton. "He ought 
to have been put to death with all the torture the Indians 
use with their captives." 

These slight remarks indicated the peculiar manner in 
which each of these individuals viewed a subject. 

" The British generals expected that Arnold's example 
would be followed by numbers of the Americans ; but I 
think they soon saw the character of the people, and the 
way they regarded Arnold," said old Harmar. 

" It 's my opinion that Arnold's going over to the 
enemy was a benefit to our cause," remarked Smith. 
" Such men are stains upon the character of the people 
with whom they associate ; and if a selfish, sensual 
traitor was fit company for Sir Henry Clinton and his 
officers, he was not for Washington and the other gene- 
rals of our army." 



Arnold's treason. 155 

"Some of our people thought that he would prove a 
dangerous foe ; but, after the attack on New London, all 
his activity and bravery seem to have fallen asleep. We 
had many men w^ho could have met and defeated him, 
with anything like equal force. We did not lose much 
by his treachery, and the British lost Andre, who would 
have outweighed many Arnolds," said Morton. 

*' But treason found its reward," observed Mr. Jackson 
Harmar. " If Arnold had an atom of conscience or 
sensibility to shame, the curses of a whole people, whom 
he had turned from admiring friends to bitter foes, and 
the jeers and scorn of those whom he wished to make 
friends, must have planted many a thorn in his bosom, 
to rankle and poison his life." 

" If he had any conscience ?" remarked Morton, with 
an unbelieving smile. 

" The people of Philadelphia showed that they had 
the true patriotic spirit in them, in burning that effigy of 
Arnold," said Mr. Jackson Harmar ; " and taught the 
enemy that, though they might buy one man, they could 
not hire a people to follow WTong example." 



CAPTURE OF GENERAL PRESCOTT. 



" Well, leaving Arnold to the execration of all pa- 
triotic and pure-souled men," remarked Mr. Jackson 
Harmar, assuming the post of pilot to the conversation, 
" there is an exploit of the Revolution which always 
struck me as being one of the most daring and perilous 
to be found in the annals of war. I mean the capture 
of Major- General Prescott by Major Barton. If either 
of you, gentlemen, know the circumstances of that 
affair, I would be obliged to you for your information." 

" I do n't know as much about it as you may obtain 
from history," replied old Harmar, speaking for himself. 
" Our line was in another neighborhood." 

" I should suppose Mr. Morton was acquainted with 
the facts, as he was up in that part of the country about 
that time," observed Wilson. 

" I was ; and do know all that one engaged in the 
expedition might tell me," replied Morton. " Further- 
more, I have no objection to communicating my informa- 
tion. — I would thank you for a glass of water, Mrs. 

(150) 



CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 157 

Harmar." The water was handed to the old man, and, 
after a refreshing draught, he proceeded with his narra- 
tive. 

" You must know, that in the latter part of 1771 
General Charles Lee was surprised and taken prisoner 
by a detachment of British troops. This was the result 
of his own carelessness. The British chuckled over his 
capture, saying that they had caught the American pal- 
ladium, as if Lee was at all necessary to the success of 
our cause. How^ever, the Americans considered him a 
valuable officer, and Major William Barton, of the 
Rhode Island line, resolved upon retaking him or pro- 
curing his exchange. 

" Some months elapsed, after the capture of General 
Lee, before an opportunity offered of effecting the object 
which Major Barton had in view. In the month follow- 
ing that of the capture, the enemy took possession 
of the islands of Rhode-Island, Canonicut, and Pru- 
dence. Major Barton was then stationed at Tiverton, 
and for some months anxiously watched the motions of 
the enemy, with but feeble prospect of obtaining the 
opportunity he desired. 

" At length, on the 20th June, 1777, a man by the 
name of Coffin, who made his escape from the British, 
was seized by some of the American troops, and carried 
to Major Barton's quarters. Major Barton availed him- 
self of the opportunity to inquire respecting the disposi- 
tion of the British forces. Coffin on examination, stated 
that Major-General Richard Prescott had established his 
head-quarters on the west side of Rhode-Island, and 
14 



158 CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 

described minutely the situation of the house in which 
he resided, which he said was owned by a Mr. Pering. 
His account was a few^ days after confirmed by a deserter 
from the ranks of the enemy. Major Barton was now 
confirmed in his belief of the practicability of effecting 
his favorite object : — but serious obstacles were first to 
be encountered and removed. Neither his troops, nor 
their commander, had been long inured to service ; and 
the intended enterprise was of a nature as novel as it 
was hazardous. Besides, Major Barton was aware that 
the undertaking, should it prove unsuccessful, would be 
pronounced rash and unadvised, and, in its consequences, 
though his life might be preserved, be followed by de- 
gradation and disgrace. Moreover, to involve in the 
consequences of an enterprise, devised and undertaken 
without previous consultation with his superiors in rank, 
the interest and perhaps the lives of a portion of his 
brave countrymen, w^as a subject that excited reflections 
calculated to damp the ardor and appal the courage of 
the bravest minds. Still, however, upon mature reflec- 
tion, aided by a consciousness that its only motive was 
the interest of his country, he resolved to hazard his 
reputation and his life in the attempt. 

" The regiment to which Major Barton w^as attached, 
was commanded by Colonel Stanton, a respectable and 
w^ealthy farmer in Rhode-Island, W'ho, in the spirit of the 
times, had abandoned the culture of his farm and the 
care of his family, and put at hazard his property and 
his life in defence of his country. To this gentleman 
Major Barton communicated his plan, and solicited per- 



CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 159 

mission to carry it into execution. Colonel Stanton 
readily authorized him ' to attack the enemy when and 
where he pleased.' Several officers in the confidence 
of Major Barton were then selected from the regiment 
for the intended expedition, on whose abilities and 
bravery he could rely: — these were, Captain Samuel 
Phillips, Lieutenant Joshua Babcock, Ensign Andrew 
Stanton, and John Wilcock. (Captain Adams subse- 
quently volunteered his services, and took an active 
part in the enterprise.) These gentlemen were informed 
by Major Barton, that he had in contemplation an enter- 
prise which would be attended with great personal 
hazard to himself and his associates ; but which, if sus- 
cess attended it, would be productive of much advantage 
to the country. Its particular object, he stated, would 
be seasonably disclosed to them. It was at their option 
to accept or decline his invitation to share with him in 
the dangers, and, as he trusted, in the glory that would 
attend the undertaking. The personal bravery of Major 
Barton had been previously tested ; and such was the 
confidence and esteem which he had acquired among 
the officers under his command, that, without insisting 
upon a previous developement of his plans, his proposal 
was immediately accepted. Major Barton experienced 
more difficulty in obtaining the necessary number of 
boats, as there were but two in the vicinity. But this 
difficulty, though it caused a few days' delay, was at 
length obviated, and five whale-boats were procured and 
fitted for service. Major Barton had purposely post- 
poned procuring the necessary number of men until the 



160 CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 

last moment, from an apprehension that their earUer 
selection might excite suspicion, and defeat the object 
of their enterprise. Desirous that this Httle band might 
be composed entirely of volunteers, the whole regiment 
was now ordered upon parade. In a short, but animated 
address, Major Barton informed the soldiers that he pro- 
jected an expedition against the enemy, which could be 
effected only by the heroism and bravery of those who 
should attend him ; that he desired the voluntary assist- 
ance of about forty of their number, and directed those 
' who would hazard their lives in the enterprise, to ad- 
vance two paces in front.' Without one exception, or 
a moment's hesitation, the whole regiment advanced. 
Major Barton, after bestowing upon the troops the ap- 
plause they merited, and stating that he required the aid 
of but a small portion of their number, commenced 
upon the right, and, passing along the hues, selected 
from the regiment, to the number of thirty-six, those who 
united to bravery and discipline a competent knowledge 
of seamanship, for the management of the boats. Hav- 
ing thus obtained an adequate number of officers and 
men, and everything being ready, the party, on the 4th 
of July, 1777, embarked from Tiverton for Bristol. 
While crossing Mount Hope Bay, there arose a severe 
storm of thunder and rain, which separated three boats 
from that of their commander. The boat containing 
Major Barton, and one other, arrived at Bristol soon 
after midnight. Major Barton proceeded to the quarters 
of the commanding officer, where he found a deserter 
who had just made his escape from the enemy at Rhode- 
Island. From this man he learned that there had been 



CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 161 

no alteration for the last few days in the position of the 
British. On the morning of the fifth, the remaining 
boats having arrived, Major Barton, with his officers, 
went to Hog Island, not far distant from Bristol, and 
within view of the British encampment and shipping. 
It was at this place that he disclosed to his officers the 
particular object of the enterprise, his reasons for at- 
tempting it, and the part each was to perform. Upon 
reconnoitring the position of the enemy,' it was thought 
impracticable, without great hazard of capture, to pro- 
ceed directly from Bristol to the head-quarters of the 
British general. It was determined, therefore, to make 
Warwick Neck, a place opposite to the British encamp- 
ment, but at a greater distance than Bristol, the point 
from which they should depart immediately for Rhode- 
Island. The closest secrecy was enjoined upon his offi- 
cers by Major Barton, and they returned to Bristol. 

"' On the evening of the sixth, about nine o'clock, the 
little squadron again sailed, and crossing Narragansett 
Bay, landed on Warwick Neck. On the seventh, the 
wind changing to E. N. E. brought on a storm, and 
retarded their plan. On the ninth, the weather being 
pleasant, it was determined to embark for the island. 
The boats were now numbered, and the place of every offi- 
cer and soldier assigned. About nine o'clock in the even- 
mg, Major Barton assembled his little party around him, 
and in a short but spirited address, in which were mingled 
the feelings of the soldier and the man, he disclosed 
to them the object of the enterprise. He did not attempt 
to conceal the danger and difficulties that would inevita- 
14* 



162 CAPTURE OP GEN. PRESCOTT. 

bly attend the undertaking ; nor did he forget to remind 
them, that should their efforts be followed by success, 
they would be entitled to, and would receive, the grate- 
ful acknowledgments of their country. * It is proba- 
ble,' said he, ' that some of us may not survive the 
daring attempt ; but I ask you to hazard no dangers 
which will not be shared wdth you by your commander ; 
and I pledge to you my honor, that in every difficulty 
and danger I will take the lead.' He received the im- 
mediate and unanimous assurance of the whole party, 
that they would follow wherever their commander should 
lead them. Major Barton then, reminding them how 
much the success of the enterprise depended upon their 
strict attention to orders, directed that each individual 
should confine himself to his particular seat in the boat 
assigned him, and that not a syllable should be uttered 
by any one. He instructed them, as they regarded their 
character as patriots and soldiers, that in the hour of 
danger they should be firm, collected, and resolved fear- 
lessly to encounter the dangers and diflficulties that 
might assail them. He concluded by offering his ear- 
nest petition to the Great King of Armies, that he would 
smile upon their intended enterprise, and crown it with 
success. The whole party now proceeded to the shore. 
Major Barton had reason to apprehend that he might be 
discovered in his passage from the main to Rhode- 
Island, by some of the ships of war that lay at a small 
distance from shore. He therefore directed the com- 
manding officer at Warwick Neck, that if he heard the 
report of three distinct muskets, to send boats to the 



CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 163 

north end of Prudence Island to his aid. The whole 
party now took possession of the boats in the manner 
directed. That which contained Major Barton was 
posted in front, with a pole about ten feet long fixed in 
her stern, to the end of which was attached a handker- 
chief, in order that his boat might be distinguished from 
the others, and that none might go before it. In 
this manner they proceeded between the islands of 
Prudence and Patience, in order that they might not be 
seen by the shipping of the enemy that lay off Hope 
Island. While passing the north end of Prudence 
Island, they heard from the sentinels on board the ship- 
ping of the enemy, the cry of 'All's well!' As they 
approached the shore of Rhode-Island, a noise like the 
running of horses was heard, which threw a momentary 
consternation over the minds of the whole party ; but, 
in strict conformity to the orders issued, not a word was 
spoken by any one. A moment's reflection satisfied 
Major Barton of the utter impossibility that his designs 
could be known by the enemy, and he pushed boldly for 
the shore. Apprehensive that, if discovered, the enemy 
might attempt to cut off his retreat. Major Barton ordered 
one man to remain in each boat, and be prepared to de- 
part at a moment's warning. The remainder of the 
party landed without delay. The reflections of Major 
Barton at this interesting moment, were of a nature the 
most painful. The lapse of a few hours would place 
him in a situation in the highest degree gratifying to his 
ambition, or overwhelm him in the ruin in which his 
rashness would involve him. In the solemn silence of 



164 CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 

night, and on the shores of the enemy, he paused a mo- 
ment to consider a plan which had been projected and 
matured amidst the bustle of a camp and in a place of 
safety. The night was excessively dark, and, a stranger 
to the country, his sole reliance upon a direct and rapid 
movement to the head-quarters of a British general, so 
essential to success, rested upon the imperfect informa- 
tion he had acquired from deserters from the enemy. 
Should he surprise and secure General Prescott, he was 
aware of the difficulties that would attend his convey- 
ance to the boat ; the probability of an early and fatal 
discovery of his design by the troops upon the island ; 
and, even if he should succeed in reaching the boats, it 
was by no means improbable that the alarm might be 
seasonably given to the shipping, to prevent his retreat 
to the main. But regardless of circumstances, which 
even then would have afforded an apology for a hasty 
retreat, he resolved at all hazards to attempt the accom- 
plishment of his designs. 

" To the head-quarters of General Prescott, about a 
mile from the shore, a party in five divisions now pro- 
ceeded in silence. There were doors on the south, the 
east and west sides of the house in which he resided. 
The first division was ordered to advance upon the south 
door, the second the west, and the third the east, the 
fourth to guard the road, and the fifth to act in emer- 
gencies. In their march they passed the guard-house 
of the enemy on their lefl, and on their right a house 
occupied by a company of cavalry, for the purpose of 
carrying with expedition the orders of the general to re- 



CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 165 

mote parts of the island. On arriving at the head-quar- 
ters of the enemy, as the gate of the front yard was 
opened, they were challenged by a sentinel on guard. 
The party was at the distance of tw^enty-five yards from the 
sentinel, but a row of trees partially concealed them 
from his view, and prevented him from determining 
their number. No reply was made to the challenge of 
the sentinel, and the party proceeded on in silence. The 
sentinel again demanded, 'Who comes there ?' ' Friends,' 
replied Barton. ' Friends,' says the sentinel, ' advance 
and give the countersign.' 

" Major Barton, affecting to be angry, said to the sen- 
tinel, who was now near him, ' Damn you, w^e have no 
countersign — have you seen any rascals to-night?' and, 
before the sentinel could determine the character of those 
who approached him, Major Barton had seized his 
musket, told him he was a prisoner, and threatened, in 
case of noise or resistance, to put him to instant death. 
The poor fellow was so terrified, that upon being asked 
whether his general was in the house, he was for some 
time unable to give any answer. At length, in a falter- 
ing voice, he replied that he was. By this time each 
division having taken its station, the south door was 
burst open by the direction of Major Barton, and the 
division there stationed, with their commander at their 
head, rushed into the head-quarters of the general. At 
this critical moment, one of thfe British soldiers effected 
his escape, and fled to the quarters of the main guard. 
This man had no article of clothing upon him but a 
shirt; and having given the alarm to the sentinel on 



166 CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 

dut}^, passed on to the quarters of the cavalry, which was 
more remote from the head-quarters of the general. The 
sentinel roused the main guard, who were instantly in 
arms, and demanded the cause of alarm. He stated the 
information which had been given him by the soldier, 
w^hich appeared so incredible to the sergeant of the 
guard that he insisted that he had seen a ghost. The 
sentinel, to whom the account of the general's capture 
appeared quite as incredible as to his commanding offi- 
cer, admitted that the messenger was clothed in white ; 
and after submitting to the jokes of his companions, as 
a punishment for his credulity, he was ordered to resume 
his station, while the remainder of the guard retired to 
their quarters. It was fortunate for Major Barton and 
his brave followers, that the alarm given by the soldier 
was considered groundless. Had the main guard pro- 
ceeded without delay to the relief of their commanding 
general, his rescue certainly, and probably the destruc- 
tion of the party, would have been the consequence. 

" The first room Major Barton entered was occupied 
by Mr. Pering, who positively denied that General 
Prescott was in the house. He next entered the room 
of his son, who w^as equally obstinate with his father in 
denying that the general was there. Major Barton then 
proceeded to other apartments, but was still disappointed 
in the object of his search. Aware that longer delay 
might defeat the object of his enterprise. Major Barton 
resorted to stratagem to facilitate his search. Placing 
himself at the head of the stairway, and declaring his 
resolution to secure the general dead or alive, he ordered 



CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 167 

his soldiers to set fire to the house. The soldiers were 
preparing to execute his orders, when a voice, which 
Major Barton at once suspected to be the general's, 
demanded ' What 's the matter ?' Major Barton rushed 
to the apartment from whence the voice proceeded, and 
discovered an elderly man just rising from his bed, and 
clapping his hand upon his shoulder, demanded of him 
if he was General Prescott. He answered 'Yes, sir.' 
' You are my prisoner, then,' said Major Barton. ' I 
acknowledge that I am,' replied the general. In a mo- 
ment. General Prescott found himself, half dressed, in 
the arms of the soldiers, who hurried him from the 
house. In the meantime. Major Barrington, the aid to 
General Prescott, discovering that the house was attacked 
by the rebels, as he termed them, leaped from the win- 
dow of his bed-chamber, and was immediately secured 
a prisoner. General Prescott, supported by Major 
Barton and one of his officers, and attended by Major 
Barrington and the sentinel, proceeded, surrounded by 
the soldiery, to the shore. Upon seeing the five little 
boats. General Prescott, who knew the position of the 
British shipping, appeared much confused, and, turning 
to Major Barton, inquired if he commanded the party. 
On being informed that he did, he expressed a hope that 
no personal injury was intended him ; and Major Barton 
assured the general of his protection, while he remained 
under his control. 

'^ The general had travelled from head-quarters to the 
shore in his waistcoat, small-clothes, and slippers. A 
moment was now allowed him to complete his dress, 



168 CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 

while the party were taking possession of the boats. 
The general was placed in the boat with Major Barton, 
and they proceeded for the main. 

" They had not got far from the island, when the dis- 
charge of cannon and three sky-rockets gave the signal 
of alarm. It was fortunate for the party that the enemy 
on board the shipping were ignorant of the cause of it, 
for they might easily have cut off their retreat. The signal 
of alarm excited the apprehensions of Major Barton and 
his brave associates, and redoubled their exertions to 
reach the point of their destination before they could be 
discovered. They succeeded, and soon after day-break 
landed at Warwick Neck, near the point of their de- 
parture, after an absence of six hours and a half. 

" General Prescott turned towards the island, and, 
observing the ships of war, remarked to Major Barton, 
' Sir, you have made a bold push to-night.' ^ We have 
been fortunate,' replied the hero. An express was im- 
mediately sent forward to Major-General Spencer, at 
Providence, communicating the success which had at- 
tended the enterprise. Not long afterwards, a coach 
arrived, which had been despatched by General Spencer 
to convey General Prescott and his aid-de-camp prisoners 
to Providence. They were accompanied by Major 
Barton, who related to General Spencer, on their arrival, 
the particulars of the enterprise, and received from that 
officer the most grateful acknowledgments for the signal 
services he had rendered to his country." 

" I suppose Prescott paid for Lee soon afterwards ?" 
said young Harmar. 



CAPTURE OF GEN. PRESCOTT. 169 

" Yes ; he was an officer of equal rank with Lee. 
The enemy had refused to exchange Lee for tw^o or 
three officers of an inferior grade, but they were ready 
enough to take Prescott for him," replied Morton. 

'' It was as complete an enterprise as was ever carried 
through," remarked old Harmar. 

" The poor general must have been surprised to find 
he was a prisoner, when he thought himself safe among 
an army and fleet," observed Mrs. Harmar. 

" Major Barton was every inch a hero. See his skill 
and daring in planning and executing the capture, and 
then his modesty when Prescott said he had made a bold 
push — 'We have been fortunate.' The reply was 
worthy of the noblest of the Athenians," remarked Mr. 
Jackson Harmar. 

" Circumstances did certainly favor the enterprise," 
said Smith. " In fact, we may say its success turned 
upon chances, and if it had failed and the whole party 
been made prisoners. Major Barton would have been 
called a rash and inconsiderate officer. Success works 
wonders in our estimate of deeds." 

" You are harsh. Barton calculated the chances be- 
fore he entered into the expedition — saw that they were 
in his favor, and then formed his plan. I am persuaded 
that, had he failed, his countrymen would have done 
him justice," said Wilson. 

" Perhaps," replied Higgins. 

15 



JONATHAN RILEY AND FRANK LILLY. 



" I SAY, Mr. Higgins," said old Harmar, wishing to 
change the subject, " do you recollect Jonathan Riley 
and Frank Lilly, that were in our company ?" 

" I do. I shall never forget the death of either of 
them," replied Higgins. " Poor Frank used to be the 
butt of the regiment." 

" And why shall you always remember the death of 
those two men?" inquired Mr. Jackson Harmar. 

" Well, from peculiar circumstances connected with 
them," replied Higgins. " However, your father knew 
them most intimately, and he can tell you more about 
them than I can." 

" Come, father, we call on you for the story," said 
Mrs. Harmar. 

" You shall have what I can recollect of it, ray child. 
My memory won't pass muster any more ; but if there 's 
one event that will never escape its grasp, it is the sin- 
gular death of Jonathan Riley. He was a sergeant in 
our regiment. He had served in the old French war, 

(170) 




RILEY GOING TO THE PLACE OF EXECUTION. 



JONATHAN RILEY. 171 

and, being a man of tried courage and presence of mind, 
he was usually selected for dangerous and trying situa- 
tions. He was at length placed on a recruiting station, 
and in a short period he enlisted a great number of men. 
Among his recruits was Frank Lilly, a boy about sixteen 
years old, who was so weak and small that he would 
not have passed muster if the array had not been greatly 
in want of men. The soldiers made this boy the butt 
of their ridicule, and many a joke w^as perpetrated at his 
expense. Yet there was a spirit in the boy beyond his 
years. Riley was greatly attached to him ; and it was 
reported, on good authority, that he was the fruit of one 
of Riley's love affairs with a beautiful and unfortunate 
girl. 

" Often on our long and fatiguing marches, dying al- 
most from want, harassed incessantly by the enemy, did 
Riley carry the boy's knapsack for miles, and many a 
crust for the poor WTetch was saved from his scanty 
allowance. But Frank Lilly's resolution was once the 
cause of saving the whole detachment. The American 
army was encamped at Elizabethtown. The soldiers 
stationed about four miles from the main body, near the 
bay that separated the continent from Staten-Island, 
forming an advance picket-guard, were chosen from a 
southern regiment, and were continually deserting. It 
was a post of some danger, as the young ambitious Brit- 
ish officers, or experienced sergeants, often headed par- 
ties that approached the shore in silence, during the 
night, and attacked our outposts. Once they succeeded 
in surprising and capturing an officer and twenty men, 



172 JONATHAN RILEY 

without the loss of a man on their part. General Wash- 
ington determined to relieve the forces near the bay, and 
our regiment was the one from which the selection was 
made. The arrangement of our guard, as near as I can 
recollect, was as follow^s : 

" A body of two hundred and fifty men was stationed 
a short distance inland. In advance of these w^ere 
several outposts, consisting of an officer and thirty men 
each. The sentinels were so near as to meet in their 
rounds, and were relieved every two hours. It chanced 
one dark and wdndy night, that Lilly and myself 
were sentinels on adjoining posts. All the sentinels 
were directed to fire on the least alarm, and retreat to 
the guard, where we were to make the best defence we 
could, until supported by the detachment in our rear. 
In front of me was a strip of woods, and the bay was 
so near that I could hear the dashing of the waves. It 
was near midnight, and occasionally a star was to be 
seen through the flying clouds. The hours passed 
heavily and cheerlessly away. The wind at times roared 
through the adjoining w^oods with astonishing violence. 
In a pause of the storm, as the wind died suddenly 
away, and was heard only moaning at a distance, I was 
startled by an unusual noise in the woods before me. 
Again I listened attentively, and imagined that I heard 
the heavy tread of a body of men, and the rattling of 
cartridge boxes. As I met Lilly, I informed him of my 
suspicions. All had been quiet in the rounds, but he 
promised to keep a good watch, and fire on the least 
alarm. We separated, and I had marched but a few 



AND FRANK LILLY. 173 

rods, when I heard the following conversation. ' Stand.* 
The answer was from a speaker rapidly approaching, 
and in a low constrained voice. ' Stand yourself, and 
you shall not be injured. If you fire, you are a dead 
man. If you remain where you are, you shall not be 
harmed. If you move, I will run you through.' 

" Scarcely had he spoken, when I saw the flash, and 
heard the report of Lilly's gun. I saw a black mass 
rapidly advancing, at which I fired, and with all the 
sentinels retreated to the guard, consisting of thirty men, 
commanded by an ensign. An old barn had served 
them for a guard-house, and they barely had time to 
turn out, and parade in the road, as the British were 
getting over a fence within six rods of us, to the number 
of eighty, as we supposed. We fired upon them, and 
retreated in. good order towards the detachment in the 
rear. The enemy, disappointed of their expected prey, 
pushed us hard, but we were soon reinforced, and they, 
in their turn, were compelled to retreat, and we followed 
them at their heels to the boats. We found the next 
morning that poor Frank Lilly, after discharging his 
musket, was followed so close by the enemy that he was 
unable to get over a fence, and he was run through with 
a bayonet. It was apparent, however, that there had 
been a violent struggle ; for in front of his post was a 
British non-commissioned officer, one of the best formed 
men I ever saw, shot directly through the body. He 
died in great agonies, as the ground was torn up with 
his hands, and he had literally bitten the dust. We 
discovered long traces of blood, but never knew the ex- 
15* 



174 JONATHAN RILEY 

tent of the enemy's loss. Poor Riley took Lilly's death 
so much to heart that he never afterwards was the man 
he previously had been. He became indifferent, and 
neglected his duty. There was something remarkable 
in the manner of his death. He w^as tried for his life, 
and sentenced to be shot. During the trial and subse- 
quently, he discovered an indifference truly astonishing. 
On the day of his execution, the fatal cap was drawn 
over his eyes, and he was caused to kneel in front of the 
whole army. Twelve men were detailed for the pur- 
pose of executing him, but a pardon had been granted, 
unknown to Riley, in consequence of his age and ser- 
vices ; they had no cartridges. The w^ord ' ready ' was 
given, and the cocking of guns could be distinctly 
heard. At the w^ord ^ fire,' Riley fell dead upon his 
face, when not a gun had been discharged." 

" That was a remarkable death ; but there have been 
many instances of a similar kind. The dread of death 
has been sufficient to produce it without a mortal blow," 
remarked Wilson. 

" But I cannot believe that Riley ever felt a dread of 
death. He w^as always as reckless of his own life as if 
it was not of the value of a pin's head. No ; it was not 
the dread of death," replied old Harmar. 

" It may have been the belief that death was certainly 
about to visit him. Imagination may produce effects 
quite as wonderful," observed Mr. Jackson Harmar. 

" It 's a waste of time and thought to speculate on 
such things," said Smith. " But I 'm inclined to believe, 
with young Mr. Harmar, that it was the result of imagi- 



AND FRANK LILLY. 175 

nation. A man hearing the word ' fire,' in such a case, 
would feel sure of death, and then his faculties would 
sink into the expected state." 

" I guess Riley's heart must have been almost broken 
at the death of poor Frank Lilly," said Mrs. Harmar. 

" Yes; he felt it deeper than most of us thought, and 
as I said, became perfectly indifferent whether his duty 
was performed or not," replied old Harmar. " The 
whole story of Riley and Lilly, including the account 
of the love affair, was a sad bit of romance." 



THE 



MASSACRE OF WYOMING 



" The people of Pennsylvania," observed Morton, 
" suffered more from the tories and Indians than they 
did from the British. Philadelphia and its vicinity were 
the only parts which any considerable British force 
visited ; but look at the depredations of the tories and 
Indians on the northern and western frontiers, and at the 
massacre at Wyoming particularly." 

" Ay, there were suffering and horror enough expe- 
rienced in that valley alone, to match those of any other 
event in our history. It was a time of blood and desola- 
tion," remarked Mr. Jackson Harmar. 

"I was intimately acquainted with several families 
residing in the valley at the time of the massacre," said 
Morton ; " and one man, who was taken prisoner after 
seeing his whole family slaughtered, and who afterwards 
escaped from the bloody band, narrated the whole affair 
to me." 

" There is considerable dispute in regard to the cir- 
cumstances attending the massacre. It seems impossible 
to get at the precise truth," observed Mrs. Harmar. 

(176) 



MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 177 

" It 's my opinion, the horrors of the event have been 
greatly exaggerated," added Smith. 

'' I do not think they could be exaggerated," replied 
Morton. " If you desire it, I will relate the circum- 
stances as they were narrated to me. I can vouch for 
the strict regard to truth that has ever distinguished my 
friend." 

Of course, the company signified their desire to hear 
the account, and thereupon Morton began as follows. 

" Wyoming, besides being a frontier settlement dur- 
ing the course of the Revolutionary war, and therefore 
constantly- exposed to the inroads of the savages, had 
furnished two full companies, and about sixty recruits 
more, for the main army — all which were annexed to the 
Connecticut line, and armed at their own expense. They 
amounted, in the whole, to two hundred and thirty men. 
While thus weakened and unguarded, they were invaded 
by an army from Niagara, in the British service, com- 
posed of regulars, tories, and Indians ; of which the In- 
dians composed the greater part. 

" The Indians, in the spring of 1777, began to be 
troublesome. Their numbers were frequently augmented 
by the arrival of new parties ; and it was from the 
cattle, hogs, and other plunder taken from the inhabit- 
ants, that they furnished themselves with provisions. 
Some of the inhabitants w^ere killed by them, and others 
captured ; and they destroyed much property. At 
length they became very formidable. 

" The inhabitants had erected several small forts, but 
the principal one was Forty Fort, in Kingston, on the 



178 MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 

west side of the river, a small distance above Wyoming 
Falls. To this the settlers had chiefly resorted. They 
had sent agents to the continental army to acquaint them 
with their distressed situation ; in consequence of which, 
Captain Spaulding, with about sixty or seventy men, was 
despatched to their assistance. This detachment was, 
at the time of the massacre, about forty miles distant. 
The garrison had been apprised of their march from 
Lancaster, but not of their proximity. 

" The people in the garrison grew uneasy, under the 
insults of the invaders. The militia w^ere placed under 
officers taken from themselves, and the whole body w^a^ 
commanded by Colonel Zebulon Butler, of the conti- 
nental army. Colonel Dennison, of the militia, was 
second in command. There was a fortification about 
three miles above Forty Fort, called Wintermoot's Fort. 
This was in the possession of tories. They surrendered 
at the approach of the enemy, without opposition, and 
gave them aid ; some of them entering fully into their 
interests. Wintermoot's Fort instantly became the head- 
quarters of the expedition from Canada ; and was com- 
manded by Colonel John Butler, a British officer, and 
commander of a party of rangers. The second in com- 
mand W'as Colonel Brandt, a natural son of Sir William 
Johnson, by an Indian w^oman. Some communications 
by flag had taken place betw^een the hostile parties pre- 
vious to the*battle, w^ith propositions of compromise. 
The Canadians insisted on an unqualified submission to 
Great Britain ; but this the garrison peremptorily refused, 
and nothing was eflfected. The reciprocal bearers of 



MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 179 

flags represented the army of the invaders as double the 
garrison in number, and still more superior in the quality 
of their arms. 

" It was debated in the garrison, whether it would be 
a point of prudence to hazard a sally. An officer, who 
had been at the enemy's camp with a flag, opposed it, 
as did also Colonel Dennison and several others, and 
Colonel Butler rather declined it; but, among others 
who were in favor of it, a certain captain, (who never 
lived to lament his temerity,) urged it with so much 
vehemence, that the commandant consented. A Mr. 
Ingersol, then in the garrison with a flag from the enemy, 
had been some time their captive, and was intimately 
acquainted with their strength. He did his utmost to 
deter them from the rash attempt, but all in vain ; and, 
when he saw them turn out and parade, could no longer 
refrain from tears. 

" The third day of July, in the year 1778, was the 
fatal day that deluged in blood the plains of Wyoming! 
The garrison marched ofl* in a solid column, and met 
with no material obstruction till they reached the enemy's 
camp, about three miles above Forty Fort. Here they 
had the Susquehanna on the right, and a thick swamp 
on the left ; and, perceiving that the enemy extended 
from the one to the other, ready to receive them, they 
displayed column, which threw them into a similar posi- 
tion. Colonel Zebulon Butler commanded the right, 
and was opposed by Colonel John Butler, on the 
enemy's left. Colonel Dennison commanded on the 
left, and was opposed by Colonel Brandt, on the 



180 MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 

enemy's right. The action commenced at about forty 
rods distance. The air being heavy, the smoke ob- 
structed their sight ; and, after the first discharge, they 
could only direct their aim by the flash of the enemy's 
guns. Little execution was done till after several dis- 
charges. Brandt marched a party into the swamp, and 
flanked the militia. The enemy, now firing from under 
cover of the thicket, greatly annoyed that wing. The 
militia dropped down very fast, and at length began to 
give way, one after another, in rapid succession, till the 
rout became general. The fugitives were closely pur- 
sued by the Indians, who, besides their rifles and toma- 
hawks, were provided with long spears, which they threw 
with great dexterity, and seldom missed their object — 
the practice of throwing the tomahawk and spear, and 
of taking aim, being the principal exercises to which an 
Indian warrior is trained. 

^^ It was impossible for men thus flying and thus pur- 
sued to rally, nor had they a moment's time even to load 
their pieces, while death was close upon every man's 
heel. And, besides, many of them had no other wea- 
pon but a rusty musket. Fhght was their only hope ; 
and the Indians, being most accustomed to running, if 
they could not run the fastest, could, however, out-wind 
them. The carnage at once became general, and three- 
fourths of the militia were killed. 

" According to the account of some who were present, 
the number that sallied out was five hundred, and of 
those who escaped the scalping-knife two hundred. 
Others assert that the sortie consisted of but three hun- 



MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 181 

dred, and those who escaped were less than one hun- 
dred. The probabihty is that, between the confusion, 
carnage, and panic of the day, the accounts are all in- 
correct. But, by every account, about three hundred 
abled-bodied men, amounting to more than half the 
settlement, were slain on that dismal day. 

" The fugitives fled in every direction. Some saved 
themselves by fair running ; some, by hiding till the 
darkness covered their retreat; and many by swimming 
the river, &c. Particular details of all individual 
escapes cannot be given ; nor would they, perhaps, be 
entertaining, and I shall, therefore, pass them over. 
Some few of the enemy were killed in the pursuit ; their 
total loss was never ascertained, but we are to presume 
that it was small. 

" Forty Fort was immediately evacuated. Some few 
of the inhabitants took British protections, and remained 
on their premises. The signal for a house under pro- 
tection was a white cloth hung up near the door, and 
for a man, a white rag round the crown of his hat. 

" Those of the militia who escaped from the battle, 
hastened tow^ard the Delaw^are, and, on their way 
through the swamp, met Captain Spaulding's detach- 
ment, who, on being informed of the strength of the 
enemy and deplorable condition of the settlement, 
judged it prudent to turn about and retire to the settle- 
ment on the Delaware. 

" The road through the swamp was thronged with 
women and children, heavy-hearted and panic-struck ; 
destitute of all the comforts of life, travelling day and 
16 



182 MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 

night, and in continual dread of the tomahawk and 
scalping-knife ! The whole country, and all the pro- 
perty in it, was abandoned to the savages, save only by 
the few who had taken British protections. 

" Colonel Nathan Dennison, who succeeded to the 
command after Butler escaped, seeing the impossibility 
of an effectual defence, went with a flag to Colonel John 
Butler, to know what terms he would grant on a sur- 
render ; to w^hich application Butler answered, with 
more than savage phlegm, in two short words, ^The 
hatchet. "^ Dennison, having defended the fort till most 
of the garrison were killed or disabled, was compelled 
to surrender at discretion. Some of the unhappy 
persons in the fort were carried away alive ; but the 
barbarous conquerors, to save the trouble of murder in 
detail, shut up the rest promiscuously in the houses and 
barracks, which they set on fire, enjoying the savage 
pleasure of beholding the whole consumed in one 
general blaze. 

" They then crossed the river to the only remaining 
fort, Wilkesborough, which, in hopes of mercy, surren- 
dered without demanding any conditions. They found 
about seventy continental soldiers, who had been en- 
gaged merely for the defence of the frontiers, whom 
they butchered with every circumstance of horrid cruelty. 
The remainder of the men, with the women and children, 
were shut up, as before, in the houses, which being set 
on fire, they perished altogether in the flames. 

"A general scene of devastation was now spread 
through all the townships. Fire, sword, and the other 



MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 183 

different instruments of destruction, alternately triumphed. 
The settlements of the tories alone generally escaped, 
and appeared as islands in the midst of the surrounding 
ruin. The merciless ravagers, having destroyed the 
main objects of their cruelty, directed their animosity to 
every part of living nature belonging to them — shooting 
and destroying some of their cattle, and cutting out the 
tongues of others, leaving them still alive to prolong 
their agonies. 

" The following are a few of the more singular cir- 
cumstances of the barbarity practised in the attack upon 
Wyoming. Captain Bedlock, who had been taken 
prisoner, being stripped naked, had his body stuck full 
of splinters of pine-knots, and then a heap of the same 
piled around him ; the whole was then set on fire, and 
his two companions. Captains Ranson and Durgee, 
thrown alive into the flames and held down with pitch- 
forks. The returned tories, who had at different times 
abandoned the settlement in order to join in those savage 
expeditions, were the most distinguished for their cruelty: 
in this they resembled the tories that joined the British 
forces. One of these Wyoming tories, whose mother 
had married a second husband, butchered with his own 
hands both her, his father-in-law, his own sisters, and 
their infant children. Another, who during his absence 
had sent home several threats against the life of his 
father, now not only realized them in person, but was 
himself, with his own hands, the exterminator of his 
whole family, mothers, brothers, and sisters, and mingled 
their blood in one common carnage with that of the 



184 MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 

aged husband and father. The broken parts and scat- 
tered rehcs of famiHes, consisting mostly of women 
and children who had escaped to the woods during the 
different scenes of this devastation, suffered little less 
than their friends, who had perished in the ruins of their 
houses. Dispersed, and wandering in the forests as 
chance and fear directed, without provision or covering, 
they had a long tract of country to traverse, and many, 
without doubt, perished in the woods." 

" Such deeds make the blood curdle in my veins," 
observed Mrs. Harmar. • 

" It is said that the cruelty of Colonel John Butler at 
"Wyoming has been greatly exaggerated," remarked Mr. 
Jackson Harmar. " His son, Waher Butler, was cer- 
tainly a savage, and the bloody deeds he committed 
have been frequently attributed to his father. But I 
think history should set the matter right, nor found its 
assertions upon the stories of the exasperated whigs." 

" That 's well thought of you, Mr. Harmar, but it 's 
my opinion that historians cannot find any evidence of 
the humanity of John Butler. As I said before, I firmly 
, believe the story of my friend. If John Butler did not 
butcher the men who asked for quarter, he looked quietly 
on while the red men did it, and therefore he is just as 
criminal, in my eyes, as if he had handled the toma- 
haw^k," said Morton, emphatically. 

" Colonel Zebulon Butler, with his family, escaped 
from the fort before the massacre, I beheve .?" observed 
Higgins, inquisitively. 

" Yes ; and in that I think he betrayed his trust. A 



MASSACRE OP WYOMING. 185 

commander should either conquer or die witl? his men," 
replied Morton. 

" But when slaughter is certain, I think every man is 
justified in doing all that he can to save himself," said 
old Harmar. 

" That is selfish. If slaughter was certain, would it 
not have been more honorable to remain, and make the 
enemy pay life for life, than it would be to steal away 
and leave women and children to fall without revenge ?" 
observed Wilson. 

" But would it be wise ?" asked old Harmar, inter- 
rogatively. 

" Whatever is honorable is wise," replied Wilson. 



16 



STORY 



OF THE 



DAUPHIN'S BIETHDAY, 



" Mr. Morton, what do you think was the most in- 
teresting scene you saw during the war?" enquired Mr. 
Jackson Harmar. 

" Well, that 's a question it requires some thinking to 
answer," replied Morton. " Leaving battle scenes out 
of view, I think the celebration of the Dauphin's birth- day, 
in May, 1782, was one of the most interesting events I 
have ever witnessed." 

" It was a great celebration," observed Higgins. 

" You see," began Morton, " our army was then en- 
camped on the high grounds on both sides of the Hudson. 
The camp on the w^est side of the river was called New 
Boston, because the huts had been put up by the Massa- 
chusetts troops. The head-quarters of General Wash- 
ington were at West Point. As our Congress had 
entered into an alhancewith the king of France, General 
Washington thought it proper to seize every occasion of 
doing honor to our allies ; and when the French were 
thrown into all sorts of rejoicing by the birth of an heir 

(186) 



THE dauphin's BIRTHDAY. 187 

to the throne, he decided that we should celebrate the 
same event. The thirty- first of May was fixed upon for 
the celebration. Great preparations were made for the 
festival. In General Washington's orders, invitations 
were given to all the officers in the army, and they were 
requested to invite any friend or acquaintance they might 
have in the country to join them. A romantic, open 
plain near West Point was chosen for the building of the 
great bower under which the company were to meet and 
partake of a grand feast. A French engineer, named 
Villefranche, was employed, with one thousand men, ten 
days in completing it, and, when completed, it was one 
of the most beautiful edifices I have ever seen. It was 
composed entirely of the material which the trees in the 
neighborhood afforded, and was about six hundred feet 
long and thirty wide. The roof was supported by a 
grand colonnade of one hundred and eighteen pillars made 
of the trunks of trees. The roof and walls were made 
of the boughs and branches of trees, curiously inter- 
woven, while the ends were left open. On the inside, 
every pillar was enriched with muskets and bayonets, 
which were arranged in a fanciful manner; and the 
whole interior was decorated with evergreens, French 
and American colors, and various emblems and mottoes. 
" On the day of the festival, the whole army was 
paraded on the hills on both side of the river, and it was 
a grand view. For several miles around, as far as the 
eye could reach, lines of men, glittering in their accou- 
trements, appeared. The officers were in front, or 
among their respective commands, and their waving 



188 STORY OF THE 

plumes seemed like floating foam on the waves. At the 
signal — the firing of three cannon — all the regimental 
officers left their commands and proceeded to the build- 
ing to join in the festivities there prepared by order of 
the commander-in-chief. 

" At five o'clock, dinner being on the table, an inte- 
resting procession moved from the quarters of Major- 
General M'Dougall, through a line formed by Colonel 
Grain's regiment of artillery. In front, walked the noble 
commander-in-chief, his countenance expressive of un- 
usual cheerfulness, and his stately form moving with 
characteristic grace and dignity. He was accompanied 
by his lady, and his suite followed him. Then came 
all the principal officers of the army with their ladies, 
Governor Clinton and lady, and various distinguished 
characters from the States of New York and New Jersey. 
The procession moved to the vast bowser, where more 
than five hundred guests were assembled. The banquet 
was magnificently prepared, and bands of music added 
melody to the other charms of the scene — thus feasting 
and satisfying the eye, the ear, and the palate. The 
cloth being removed, thirteen appropriate toasts were 
drank, each being announced by the firing of thirteen 
cannon and the playing of appropriate music by the 
bands in attendance. The company retired from the 
table at seven o'clock, and the regimental officers re- 
joined their respective commands. In the evening, the 
arbor was brilliantly illuminated. The numerous lights, 
gleaming among the boughs and leaves of the trees 
that composed the roof and the walls, presented the ap- 
pearance of myriads of glowworms or of thousands of 



dauphin's birthday. 189 

stars glittering in the night. When the officers had re- 
joined their different regiments, thirteen cannon were again 
fired, as a prelude to the general feu-de-joie which im- 
mediately succeeded. Three times was it repeated, and 
the reverberations sounded among the hills with tremen- 
dous effect, darkness adding grandeur to the scene, as 
the flashing of the musketry of the army broke upon it 
like sheeted lightning. The feu-de-joie was immediately 
followed by three shouts of acclamation and benedic- 
tion for the dauphin, given by the whole army as with 
one voice. At half-past eleven o'clock the celebration 
was concluded by an exhibition of fireworks, ingeniously 
constructed of various figures. There w^as a ball given 
during the evening in the arbor, at which General Wash- 
ington, wdth Mrs. Knox for a partner, led the dance. 
Thus ended the general festivity." 

'^ There," remarked Mrs. Harmar, "that has inte- 
rested me much more than all the horrible stories that 
have been told to-day. How I should have liked to 
be there !" 

" It was a sight such as all men are not permitted to 
see," said Morton. 

"It was grand — it was sublime!" exclaimed Mr. 
Jackson Harmar. " A scene worthy of any pen or any 
pencil !" As Mr. Jackson Harmar seized all such op- 
portunities for exercising his literary propensities, it was 
most probable that he considered that the pen alone 
could do justice to the scene, and that his pen was des- 
tined to immortalize it. 

The bell now rang for tea, and the party adjourned to 



190 STORY OF THE 

the tea-table, where, however, the conversation turned 
upon matters foreign to the Revolution. Mrs. Harmar 
would introduce household concerns when her husband 
began to allude to the war, and the children, especially 
Thomas Jefferson Harmar, would play around the old 
veterans, asking them trifling questions, until the meal 
was finished, and then Morton, Higgins, Smith, and 
Wilson prepared to return to their respective residences. 
Morton lived in the interior of Pennsylvania, and was 
stopping with a near relative during his visit to the city. 
The other three resided in New Jersey, and were putting 
up at the same house — that of a friend of Higgins'. Old 
Harmar shook hands with his old camp associates, wish- 
ing them many days of health and happiness to come, 
and trusting that they might meet again before death 
should claim them. The veterans kissed the children, 
and Morton gave Thomas Jefferson Harmar a bullet 
from Bunker's Hill, telling him to learn what his country- 
men had fought and bled for, and to act like them on a 
like occasion, if any such should ever occur, which he 
earnestly hoped would never be the case. Mr. Jackson 
Hal-mar procured a carriage, and the veterans being soon 
comfortably seated, he accompanied them to their re- 
spective residences. On bidding him farewell, the aged 
patriots thanked him for his kindness, which Mr. Jack- 
son Harmar returned with an elaborate panegyric on the 
men of the Revolution, and the duty of his generation 
to treat them with the highest veneration and respect. 
The public either suffered from or were benefited by 
the interview between Mr. Jackson Harmar and the 



dauphin's birthday. 191 

veteran patriots, for the press soon teemed with stirring 
poetical appeals to the people to hold their liberties 
dearer than life, on account of the blood that they had 
cost. A large volume also appeared, entitled " Legends 
of the Times that tried Men's Souls," beginning with 
the history of the " Old State-House Bell." 



THE END. 



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